Marsha's Musings: Locking Gas Caps

My husband asked me to fill the car up with gas while I was out this afternoon.  I always cringe when I am asked to do that because me and locking gas caps don't get along.

I pulled into the gas station with fear and trembling, got out and went around to the gas door on my car.  I put the key in the cap and began to turn and turn and turn and turn some more.  Nothing happened.  So turned the key the other way and tried turning the cap the other way too.  It clicked and clicked and clicked some more and then wouldn't go anymore.

By this time I was starting to get a little hot under the collar.  I tried first one way and then the other. I tried turning the key one way and then the other. I tried turning the key the opposite way that I turned the cap.  I scraped my knuckles, got grease all over my fingers, kept dropping my keys on the ground and finally, humiliated and defeated slammed the gas door shut, stormed around to the driver's side got in and slammed the door shut.  My sanctification was quickly going down the tubes at that moment.

I needed to cool down so I went to the grocery store and the dollar store to price some items needed for an upcoming event.  When I got done in the last store, I knew I had to face that dreaded gas cap again.  This time I drove around to a church parking lot that had a covered area out of the rain.  Good! No one was there and there were no cars in the parking lot.  I had privacy.

I began to work at the cap again.  Same routine as before at the gas station, but at least no one was watching me here.  I spent about five minutes at it and suddenly, I found the magic combination and the cap came off!  So I wouldn't make fool of myself again, I barely threaded the cap back on and closed the gas door so I could just grab it and take it off  at the gas station.  I was sure they would see me and think to themselves, "Ha, ha, here's that lady that can't work her gas cap!  I wonder how long she will fight with it this time before she storms away?"

I kept my head down, got my gas and left, hoping no one recognized me as the lunatic lady who had a tantrum over her gas cap. I am convinced those things are designed by men to make women like me look stupid.