I needed to stop for gas on my way to work this morning so I pulled into the 7-11 that is close to my house. I get out my car, swipe my debit card, and as I'm about to enter my pin number, I hear some strange mumbling coming from the guy who is on the opposite side of the pump. I couldn't see him, but I could sure hear him.
"I don't do this stuff! I have the servants do this for me!"
At first I thought someone was with him and that he was trying to make a joke, but I quickly realized he was alone.
Servants? Who says that? And who has servants to pump their gas for them? Maybe the President, maybe the Queen of England, but surely not this guy.
I begin filling my car with gas and hear the weirdo on the other side drop the gas nozzle as he's trying to set it back in the anchor.
"God damn it! I don't know how to do this shit! I have servants who do this crap for me! Where are my damn servants?!?!"
Okay, now I'm feeling a little uneasy. Should I stop filling up my car and get outta here? What's next? Is he gonna storm into the store and whip a gun out on the cashier because there aren't any servants in there to fill up his slurpy?
As my car finishes filling up and I turn to grab my receipt, I catch a glimpse of him. He's standing there with the driver's side door of his beat up red truck wide open, and his bald head and Charles Manson-like beady eyes looking right at me and says "You should have your servants do that for you". Then he slams his door shut and peels out of the parking lot leaving me there to wonder what kind of medication this person should be on.
Uh yeah, my servants. Right. I'll go get them.