Fluctuations

Tuesday is cheap petrol (aka “kill the planet” day).  As the petrol companies haven’t gotten around to building an oil pipeline near my house for me to siphon fuel from, I had to make my way to one of their petrol stations.  I had some problems with the pump:

An antique petrol pump - this is what people used to fill their horses up with

The LCD display that shows how much you’ve pumped, and the price, and other wonderful statistics, decided not to work today.  Indeed, the whole pump decided not to work.  It didn’t work for an entire minute – it finally “restarted”, with a one cent price reduction (so I was rewarded for my troubles).

The curious thing was, I had no idea what was happening – apart from assuming that something was wrong.  Obviously, the people waiting in the cars behind me didn’t know that the pump wasn’t working.  I knew that they didn’t know, and so I struggled with the nozzle, squeezed the trigger multiple times, checked the screens on the other side of the pump (they were working), and so on.  Everything I could to try and let these complete strangers know that something was wrong and that I wasn’t just standing there doing nothing.  Why do I care what they think?  I shouldn’t.  I don’t know if I was more annoyed at the petrol pump or my reaction to the situation I was put in.

Aim for the day: stop caring what complete strangers think about me.  Nothing they will do will affect my life, and yet I worry what they think.  If they think I’m an idiot but they can’t affect my life, then what’s the point of worrying?  I suppose this calls for a big “STFU NOOB” to all the anonymous readers out there!  God, that felt good.  Very cathartic.

That was a first for me – I’ve never had a petrol pump I’ve used not work before.  Another first – borrowing a book from the library.

Do I smell burning?

The first time I’ve borrowed a book from the library at university, that is.  Three and a half years (almost) and not one single book borrowed.  How was it?  It was beyond my wildest expectations, it was.  I enjoyed it so much that I spontaneously orgasmed and had to visit the bathroom afterwards.  The sensual swiping of the book under the barcode scanner, the presentation of the student card, the self-(abuse)service of it all!

The book?  Conversations with Stoppard by Mel Gussow.

On the way home from the petrol station, I noticed flickerings.  Flickerings.  Then the street lights went dark.  As did the street:

What the street looked like - an artist's impression

As I neared home, I drove past a tennis court.  There were people on there playing in the dark, as the lights hadn’t come back on yet.  This would be a problem for most players (myself included) – although some of the umpires I’ve played under wouldn’t see it as much of a barrier.  (I’m not bitter at all.  Sweet as anything, I am.)  I found out later that there had been a power surge.

So there have been two electronic mishaps today – the petrol pump, and the power surge.  They do say bad luck comes in threes though, so I’m anxiously waiting for the impending blackout that will shut off my compu–