Gas Station Daze: Part 1: Hot Young Women

I put myself through college by working at gas stations. My first gas station job was a graveyard shift (11 pm to 7 am). It was a bit scary. The station was located along Interstate-90, but other than that, it was in the middle of nowhere.

In one way this made me feel safer than if it were in the city because there wasn't a bunch of strange people running wild in the streets. In another way, I didn't feel as safe because there wasn't a bunch of strange people running wild in the streets. If something happened out there, no one would see it. Therefore, no one would call the police. In the city at least there was a possibility someone would see what was happening and make the call. One comfort was a sheriff's deputy usually stopped in at least once a night. If he stopped more than once a night, which he occasionally did, it made me nervous. That gave me the feeling something was going on that I didn't know about. Like an escaped convict sneaking around somewhere in the area. But escaped convict or not, I had work to do.

My main job was to clean the bays (the shop), put tools away, clean the restrooms, dust shelves, mop the showroom floor and, of course, pump gas and attend to the customers' needs. Back in those days if the costumer bought a full tank of gas the attendant was to check the oil, power steering fluid, brake fluid, antifreeze (if the engine wasn't too hot), air filter, fan belts, tire pressure and wash all the windows. If the costumer didn't fill up, he/she would get this service only if he/she asked or if the attendant volunteered the service (some girls were quite cute--forgive me, I was just a young college kid at the time).

I was given a training manual which outlined how to do all these things as well as how to dress (shirttail tucked in at all times) and how to conduct myself (polite and courteous at all times) and what to do if we got robbed (help carry the till to the robber's car if need be). It also showed tricks some attendants had pulled to get customers to buy things like tires (one I remember was poking the tire with an ice pick). The training manual stated if we were caught doing any of these tricks, or any we thought up on our own, we'd be fired on the spot, no questions asked. And we would be barred from working in any other stations anywhere in the United States that sold the brand of gas the station I worked in sold. The station's owner knew nearly every station owner (no matter what brand of gas they sold) in a 100 mile radius and he assured me if I got caught doing any of those tricks, I would not be working in any of the stations within that radius. Even though they were in competition, they were still protective of each other.

Most weeknights were pretty quiet, but on Friday and Saturday nights, things got really wild. Yes, in the middle of nowhere. The gas station was located just a few miles from the Washington/Idaho border and in those days the drinking age in Washington was twenty-one, but it was twenty in Idaho. So there were a bunch of half-drunk twenty-year-olds returning from the Idaho bars on weekend nights.

Most of the time, these young adults were loud and obnoxious, but no real problem. And believe it or not, the girls were the worst. I was whistled at and a few girls made remarks about my "cute butt." I knew these women had one too many and if they had been sober, they'd be more civilized, so I didn't take it seriously. Then there were the ones who were a little more settle. The ones who would say things like, "Don't pump Ethyl too much tonight." (Ethyl was what the premium gas was called in those days.)

One night a car came in and I trotted out to see how much gas the man wanted. When I bent down and looked in the window, I got the shock of my young life. In the passenger seat sat a woman with her feet on the dash wearing nothing but her panties! I jumped back so she was out of my line of sight. I was afraid I'd offend the driver and he'd hop out of the car and punch me in the nose for looking at her. When I finished pumping the gas, I went to collect the money. The driver said, "Wash the windshield, please."

Wash the windshield? Apparently, the guy wasn't the least bit concerned about me seeing his girlfriend's bare breasts! About that time a man got out of the back seat of the car and strolled into the station. A red flag immediately went up and I kept my eyes on him. After I washed the windshield, I collected the money and went into the station.

"Who's the woman?' I asked the man.

"She's his wife." He nodded towards the car.

"Does she have a thing against clothes?"

"She likes riding around nude at night," the man said as if it were as normal as, well, being fully clothed.

The man hung around the station for several minutes before he finally left. In the morning I told the attendant who came in to work the day shift about the "incident." He confirmed my suspicions by telling me they were probably thinking about stealing something. The woman was just a distraction. So we searched around and I found the man had gotten away with a couple of quarts of oil from a rack out by the pumps. He apparently grabbed them when he returned to the car. Since he didn't take the whole rack, I hadn't notice anything amiss. After that, I locked that rack.

On another night, a car came in with two young ladies in it. They wanted a few dollars worth of gas. I pumped the gas and went to collect the money.

"Will you wash the windshield, please?" the driver asked as she handed me the money.

I washed the driver's side of the windshield and started on the passenger's side. The passenger rolled down her window and said, "You are a cutie. Want to go out in the bushes?"

"I get off at seven," I said, thinking she would say, "Sorry," and they'd leave.

"You mean seven in the morning?" she asked.

"Yep."

The young lady's whole attitude changed. "You ought to want to do me right now, right here in the middle of the pump lane! What a jerk you are!" Then they peeled out of the station.

I stood there holding the windshield scrubber and a paper towel thinking if anyone was a jerk, it wasn't me.

Stay tuned for Part 2: Robbed

Please leave remarks about some of the wierd things that happened to you during your college days--I'd like to hear them.