Last week I went to drop off a deposit at the bank.
There was an elderly gentleman clogging the parking lot trying to turn around. He was basically executing a 3 point turn but making it about an 8 or ten point turn.
Why? He was turning around so that he could pull into the drive thru lane but in the opposite direction. Then he got out of his car and began fiddling with his gas tank; he opened the tank door and began to unscrew the cap.
This was when I thought I should step in and I asked him if he needed any help. He said, “No, why?” I hated to do it but that’s when I said, “Well, sir, this isn’t a gas pump.”
He looked flustered for a moment as—I presume—he got his wits about him then gave me a snide look. “I know that! I need money from the think and I pulled up on the wrong side!” I just said, “OK”, and drove away.
I fear getting old.