There is absolutely no Witness angle to this ? it?s just something that happened to me the other day, and I thought I?d write about it.
I?m just about to drive home from work ? about a 30 mile drive ? and I notice I?m low on fuel. So I drive into the petrol (gas) station to fill up my car. It so happens that I drive a diesel car, and this particular filling-station near my office only has six pumps, of which only 2 dispense diesel. And, on this day, one of those is out of order.
The only working diesel pump already has a car already next to it, so I drive up behind and wait. I?m listening to the BBC, and the Greenwich pips tell me that it?s six o clock. I notice with a smile that my dashboard clock is EXACTLY right ? to the second. The driver of the car in front is nowhere to be seen, so guess that he or she must be in the shop paying. I look across and see that there is a queue of people 5 or 6 long, so I?ll just have to be patient.
I wait. The queue gets shorter, but nobody leaving the shop comes out over to this car in front of me. Typical, I think ? it?ll be the very last person. Eventually, the last person pays up, and walks out of the shop.
And walks over to another car and drives away.
Now, what?s going on here? There?s now no one in the shop, no other car on the forecourt except mine and this one in front of me. I get out and walk into the shop.
?Excuse me?? I say
?Sah!? a big toothy smile from the Asian cashier, all cheery helpfulness.
?Do you know where the driver of that car is??
He confers for a moment with his colleague and they both agree that it was ?a lady in the white coat?
?Well, do you know where she?s gone??
Grinning boy is stumped, but the other guy suddenly says ?Look ? she?s there!?
And sure enough, on the other side of the road, there?s a parked car ? a Range Rover or something - with a woman leaning against it talking to another woman who?s wearing a white coat.
I walk out the shop over to her.
?Excuse me?? I say (again)
?Look!? she starts up, surprising me with her aggression, ?I AM going to pay you know, I mean, it?s not like I?ve run off or anything, is it? I?m just talking to my friend, I haven?t seen her in years. I won?t be long, you WILL get your bloody money, don?t worry!? She shares a significant look with her friend ? a kind of ?how-do-you-like-these-people? look.
So, my guess is that with me in my business suit, she?s taken me for the manager who?s come out of the shop to chase her for payment on the fuel she?s just filled up, and now she?s annoyed at the unwarranted pushiness on the part of the filling station.
And now I?m annoyed.
?Listen, missus, I don?t give a bollocks about the money ? I NEED TO USE THE PUMP!?
Now, she realises what the situation is, but seemingly is no less annoyed.
?Oh. Well. I won?t be long.?
She carries on talking to her friend ? ?So anyway, Eileen, I said to him?.?
I wait nearby. And she is not happy with me waiting nearby.
She stops talking for a moment, turns to me and says:
?I - WON?T - BE - LONG! ? - so, that?s me told.
I go back and wait in the car. And she just keeps on talking. And talking.
The minutes go by. People come and people go out of the shop. She?s happily talking to her friend, and I?m just waiting, listening to the news. Eventually White Coat Lady and Eileen say goodbye, kissy-kissy, and Eileen gets back in her car drives off. At last!
Of course, now there?s a big long queue again in the shop, WCL comes across the road, avoiding looking at me, enters the shop and joins the end of the queue.
I watch her get closer and closer to the cashier. Good! Now she?s only second-in-line. Just before she gets there, though, she decides that what she needs to do is to have a good look through the magazine rack at the back of the shop. So she leaves the queue. She takes a quick look up at me at this point, just to let me know she?s doing this on purpose. She?ll teach me to try and hurry her along!
Having closely examined half-a-dozen magazines without choosing one, she rejoins the queue, at this point 6 or 7 people long again. All I can do is wait.
She eventually pays up, leaves the shop, comes over to her car. As she?s unlocking the drivers door, she shouts over:
?I think you?re a VERY RUDE MAN!? ? but I?m close enough to see that she?s got tears in her eyes, and is clearly very upset about the whole thing, so shouting anything back seems a bit pointless. She drives off.
I fill up, queue up, and pay up. As I?m driving off the forecourt, the man on the BBC announces the next program (?Just a Minute? with Nicholas Parsons) which means it?s exactly half an hour since I drove in.
All this for a fill up of fuel that should have taken 4 or 5 minutes.
I don?t really understand why she was so horrible about it, or, if it was such an upsetting experience for her, why she dragged it out so long. I?ll admit I was annoyed and spoke harshly to her. But she did start the whole thing, and she showed incredible selfishness.
Anyway that?s it. I could tell you that I was driving home that night to watch my daughter in the school play, and White Coat Lady made me miss it. But in fact, I was in plenty of time, and we saw the play okay.
So, no punch line, really. But, what a strange woman, though.
Duncan