Last Sunday, I was in the car with Corey and his parents. We stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank before our drive to Santa Barbara to eat tacos.
Corey knows where the cheapest gas is; unfortunately, so does everyone else, so the place was packed. There was one unused pump, but a woman had parked her car so that it took up two places. After waiting a bit and allowing her to notice that a car full of people were staring at her and sending her "vibes", I got out.
I approached. She was sitting in her front seat, rummaging through her ample purse.
"Pardon me, ma'am," I said in my least intimidating voice, "Would you please back up so we can reach the other pump?"
"I'm handicapped!" she yelled. And I mean she YELLED this, and started digging though her purse more frantically.
"Uh, if you could just move your car back, please, we could..."
"I'm too poor to pay for gas!" she cried.
"Okay, well, if you could just move your car back..."
"LEAVE ME ALONE IT'S AN EMERGENCY!!!" she screamed, and ran away from me.
Folks, she ran away from me.
By that time, another pump had opened up, so we pulled in there. The woman had run inside the mini-mart where she stayed.
It was an omen. While we did make it to Santa Barbara, we never made it to the tacos.