November 17, 2002
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Remember when gas stations gave stuff away? Somewhere around here is a nice ceramic coffee cup, maybe twenty years old, I got at an Arco station (do they still have them?) as a premium for getting ten bucks’ worth of gas. Not too long before that, I was in college on the way home for the weekend–I didn’t have much money and home was maybe 50 miles away. I put 25 cents’ worth of gas in the tank, and that got me home in my trusty Renault R-10. That was an amazing car. Among other things, it had little parking lights on the side, tiny little lights you’d turn on with a rocker switch when you parked the car at night, so other drivers could see you–it seems that Paris isn’t much for street lights. One time I neglected the battery and it went dead, so I started the car with a crank–just took the jack handle, stuck it in a little hole in he front of the car, turned it a few times and drove off. Try doing THAT with your new Lexis, yuppie scum. Is it just me, or are things not getting better?
I caught the bus for grade school at the local Esso station. It was a great place. They sold soda and candy bars, and they had a card of foil packs of Alka-Seltzer you could get for a nickel. I used to get one, take it to school, pop it, and sit there quietly foaming at the mouth. The teacher got real upset. The old Esso station was a real service station–they would pump your gas, do a ring and valve job, fix your flat tire. You know, drive in over the red rubber hose and a bell would go ding somewhere, and a guy scurries out and pops your hood for an oil check while the tank is filling.
Plus, the Esso station, in cahoots with my father, pioneered the concept of cash advances on your credit card. When he needed beer money, Dad would cruise into the Esso station, flash his gas card and say “Give me five dollars’ worth of regular, but don’t put it in the tank.” The attendant would wink, fill out a slip, and hand the old man a fiver. He didn’t always get beer. One time he went in when he was already drunk and bought a half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Semi-sweet chocolate at that. Worst fucking ice cream I ever tasted in my life.
But getting back to the idea of companies giving stuff away, I remember Esso used to send out little premiums to their cardholders, and Dad would usually give them to me. One time it was this blue plastic keycase. Thing is, the hinge of the clam-shell case was also plastic, and the accompanying literature said that it was a new miracle material that could open and close the case over a million times before breaking. I was enthralled. A million times! How long would you have to live to wear this sucker out? And how did they know–did they hire some dude to open and close it, did they have some machine thingie, did they do some theoretical quantum analysis and figured it out, or did they just pull the damn number out of a hat? Probably not, else the number would have been low, 6 and seven-eights, or something. Still, it was neat thing. I wonder what they’re making out of that plastic now. Heart valves maybe–probably condoms.
Anyway, I loved the old service stations. You got service, you dealt with people. Today, you drive up to your Chevron station, stick your credit card in a slot, obey the orders on the little screen, pump your own gas and so on. You only have to deal with a human being if you want to go in for some bad pizza and cheap beer. God help you if you go to a gas station with a flat tire.
Progress. Ain’t it great?
Comments (6)
And no service with a smile anymore!
~Spot~
I know I’ve heard the AlkaSeltzer story before, but I guess it was seeing it in print that got me. *guffaw*
never mind the loss of jobs. Kids learning to be polite, and basic social skills. Now it’s all through a loudspeaker at McD’s
I hear ya…..not all progress is positive, is it?
Yeah, and people actually read books instead of the Internet. heh!
Dare I say this? Something bad always happens when I brag or even “think” proudly about anything I own or can do. But I’ll chance it. I’ve got a 96 mazda, stick shift, that I bought 2nd hand. The oil was still up there after 4000 miles when I changed it and now, another 4000 miles later,the oil is still unchanged on the stick. And it’s not very dirty. Not bad for a four banger with well over 60,000 miles on it. Try getting your old-fashioned little bitty Renault with its little bitty pedals to do that! I could sing the song: We don’t want no short autos in our town (they got little bitty pedals for little bitty feet, got little bitty tires goin down the street), but it would only be because I like the song. To each his own, just don’t get hit in such a dream car, ok?; we’d miss ya.
Now, as to mint chocolate ice cream you should know that you have to be drunk to eat that stuff and like it. Or maybe you were and still didn’t like it. An anomaly.
We’re loaded with Arco stations here in California. Good cheap gas. Come on down and get some. Tell me when and I’ll have the stations on standby.
Why didn’t I think of the Alka Seltzer thing?
Truthfully, it’s because I wouldn’t have had the guts. Also, I was too busy picking off bits of eraser to flip at the students sitting ahead of me.
You’ve got a good memory; probably not as good as Susu’s but still, pretty good. If I’ve said that before, please forgive me, I can barely remember enough to spell my own Xanga name.