Free Gas

I got hit on at the gas station.  I pulled up to the pump, and out of nowhere, this guy asked if he could pay for my gas.  Who does that? The weird part is (if the first part wasn’t already weird enough), I turned him down on the free gas offer.  Who does THAT? I mean, it’s not like I could possibly be expected to give anything in return for that (hello, Mr. “I’ll pay for your gas”, I’m married).  After he paid for my gas, all I would have to do is get in my car and leave.   He could write down my license plate information, that’s about it.  Maybe he has a cousin that works as a police officer that could look up my license plate and give him my address.  But really, what’s he going to do?  Knock on our front door, and tell my husband that he was hitting on me at the gas station, and paid for my gas without anything in return?!? What an idiot. That’s what I dreamt about a few nights ago. For once, I am speechless. 

I have no cute anecdote that somehow relates back to this event.  No story of some dashing young gas pumper that offered to rescue another in an act of camaraderie at the gas pump.  Nothing.  So, I’m thinking that maybe (or hopefully), I’m starting to dream about future events.   Maybe this dream was a precursory warning for me never to make that mistake again.  Take the free gas! Take the free gas! I bet that’s what my mind was thinking that night after I turned him down.  So far, my theory on dreaming about the future has not been proved.  I dreamt this on Friday night.  Well, it’s Wednesday, and no free gas to date.  I’ve even lingered around the gas pump for an extra 30 seconds or so yesterday, scanning the crowd of my fellow gas pumpers, hoping to catch the eye of someone who looks like they want to pay for my gas. Nope. Not once. Or if I’m looking on the bright side… not yet.