It's Saturday, and I need some diesel. Challenge accepted. I hump a couple of empty gas cans down to the gas station about half a click away. Lovely day, lovely walk.
Arriving at the gas station, I see all the diesel self-serve lanes are full so I stroll up to the full service lane where the attendant is in his booth chilling out.
"Hey, mind if I use your pump?", hoisting one of my gas cans into view.
"Naw, I've got this. Let's go." It's not like like the full service lane doesn't do a lot of business or anythhing... this guy just like's to keep busy when he can. I walk past on my way to and from the office and we usually exchange a nod or a wave, so he recognizes me.
I like to be helpful when I can, so I'm holding the gas cans and watching the meter count up to 10L while the attendant operates the pump... everyone wins, and we're pretty focused on what we're doing.
There is a large dark and blurry movement in my peripheral vision, somewhere beyond my left shoulder. I'm too thrilled counting ticks on the meter to acknowledge it much beyond "Big. Moving." and the attendant doesn't see it at all from his angle.
Suddenly, *#%$^KPRAAAANG!!!!6!@%^*
My eyes widen, I tense up and my grip on the gas can tightens. Whatever that was it was really close. Like right-there-really-close. I looked over my left shoulder to see a car with its front passenger side wheel up on the concrete island where the pumps are installed. The front bumper was hard up against a sign which had been between the pump and the edge of the island. The sign was now crumpled and mashed up against the side of diesel pump the attendant and I were behind.
"What in the heck was THAT?! Oh, that's just great." At the impact, the attendant had released his hand from the pump nozzle which naturally shut off when he let go, and stepped back a few steps. A male in his early 20s was emerging from the car.
"I think that was us just about dying horribly and unexpectedly." I replied.
I paid for my diesel and humped my now full gas cans back home, another lovely walk albeit with more consideration for gravity. Because hills.
It's a great day to not die crushed and possibly in flames at the hands of some kid in his dad's car. (Nobody that age with that hat owns that car in that color and steers it into a fuel pump- that's totally his dad's car.)
A great day indeed!