Where did he go?
Nov. 23rd, 2005 08:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peterbirksAn entertaining vignette as I walked to the station at 6.15 this morning. As I passed the 24-hour garage, the cashier was tapping loudly on his microphone, going "Hello? Hello?" I looked to see what was causing this disruption to the normally mind-bogglingly tedious job of all-night cashier. What I saw was a car, with petrol pump nozzle inserted into tank, but no customer. Hmm, puzzling. Almost Marie Celeste-like.
Now, this obviously caused the cashier a problem. The petrol station's shop closes the front door at 11pm, and the one guy left on duty dispenses all requested goods (usually cigarettes) from behind the reinforced glass partition that links directly to the outside. This caused a small problem at 2am one morning when I wanted some milk and chocolate biscuits, since the poor guy, whose first language was some form of Kashmiri, had to trek a few tens of yards to find the milk, then had to search the store for the chocolate biscuits. Clearly these are not considered much of a delicacy in Al-Qaeda land.
Anyway, here was the cashier, effectively imprisoned, with an empty car (engine still running) and a nozzle sitting there, looking for all the world like an unexploded bomb.
It was then that I noticed the customer. He had walked around the corner to talk to his friend, who was cleaning his car with a jet spray. It was so cold I was amazed that any water reached the car without freezing. Marvellous.
++++
I eagerly await the northerly winds and snow, expected some time on Friday. That should make getting into work a laugh and a half.
Now, this obviously caused the cashier a problem. The petrol station's shop closes the front door at 11pm, and the one guy left on duty dispenses all requested goods (usually cigarettes) from behind the reinforced glass partition that links directly to the outside. This caused a small problem at 2am one morning when I wanted some milk and chocolate biscuits, since the poor guy, whose first language was some form of Kashmiri, had to trek a few tens of yards to find the milk, then had to search the store for the chocolate biscuits. Clearly these are not considered much of a delicacy in Al-Qaeda land.
Anyway, here was the cashier, effectively imprisoned, with an empty car (engine still running) and a nozzle sitting there, looking for all the world like an unexploded bomb.
It was then that I noticed the customer. He had walked around the corner to talk to his friend, who was cleaning his car with a jet spray. It was so cold I was amazed that any water reached the car without freezing. Marvellous.
++++
I eagerly await the northerly winds and snow, expected some time on Friday. That should make getting into work a laugh and a half.
