Corner Gas?

Gas prices are killing me softly. I'm a nervous wreck every single time the little hand that looks like a mini windshield wiper hits the 3rd quarter on the dial.

I have to admit I'm one of those silly people who has a separate pair of gloves in the car for weekly refills. The fuel cap is always so stubborn that once you've managed to turn it by a cm, your triceps, biceps and deltoids are giving raised eyebrows the impression that you indulge in competitive body building. And of course... every time you're out of that car, every bug known to man declares hunting season on you. How on earth are you expected to get that silly nozzle to fit when you're desperately trying to swat the mosquitoes and curse the day insects inherited the earth. I mean... even multi-tasking has its limits.

If rendezvous at Petro-Canada in the summer isn't blissful enough... filling 'er up in the winter is such a joy. Its like the wind has a vendetta against you... the moment you step out of the car... wham ... its starts to blow and doesn't quit until you're a shivering heap, devoid of any sensation in any of your extremities... then you slowly ease yourself into the warmth of your semi warm car and with a speed that would put a cheetah to shame, turn the dial on your dashboard to full... so the heat can thaw you from the freezer burn you just received.

I tried to carpool, take public transit and even walk... anything to prevent venturing into the depths of Petroleum hell but to no avail. Suburbia is not for the pedestrian unless the pedestrian is looking for neither quality nor quantity of life. And thus the battle of the pump continues.