A funny thing happened on the way from the gas station
Hi there, it's me "Lunatic Wife". I dubbed myself thus as I tend to rant and rave about issues involving my husband and family. Usually, it will be something in my household that has prompted me to make comments, ranging from humorous to downright insane. This was my entire plan when I decided to join my friends in creating a blog.Last week, I read a blog Cymber wrote regarding being accosted by perfume selling bandits while pumping gas. It was one of the most bizarre things I have ever read. I mean, I have been solicited by perfume sellers outside of grocery stores and the like, but a gas station?! I laughed so hard I cried. I mean, it's not as though I believed it could happen to me. Until last night....
My four-year-old daughter, "the Diva" (dressed in her turquoise shorts outfit, lavender cape and two tiaras) and I pulled up to get gas from our usual station. I get out and proceed to do all the prerequisites needed prior to pumping gas (credit card, zip code, remove nozzle, etc) when I hear a scream, "Mama!" I turn around and see a well dressed young woman wedged between my open car door and my alarmed little girl. I'm thinking she probably wants some money (bus fare, food, who knows), but that's not the case.
"Hi, what kind of perfume do you like?" She says by way of a greeting.
Excuse me? What kind of what? I am seriously looking for a camera. This has got to be a joke. "Umm, I've got plenty of perfume, thanks anyway." But the woman refuses to be deterred.
"If I can just spray a scent or two on you...."she continues. I smile, while continuing to pump gas.
"Thanks, but no thanks, I am a severe asthmatic and have to be very careful. The last thing I need is to inhale perfume and gasoline...." She shrugs and looks as though she is seriously contemplating spraying this crap any way. I am again distracted by a scream..."Perfume, cologne, I have all the best fragrances," hawks a well dressed young man in a tie. WTF, is this a cult?
I am just about finished pumping gas and the woman has made no move to disappear. "Mama," the Diva shrieks again, "hurry, I have to pee. I want to go to my own house and use the potty...pleasth."
Mercifully, the woman leaves and shortly thereafter, so do we.
I walk into the house greeting my husband and my 14-month-old WNFL candidate, "Honey, you will not believe what happened at the gas station...."
posted by Lunatic Wife @ 12:37 PM
1 Comments:
SEE? Surreal. Didn't I tell you? Now I can't go to the gas station without wondering who is going to be there and what they are going to try to sell me. Outside of gas, of course.
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