My sincerest apologies to the Gig Harbor Chevron station...

Yesterday I pulled a Zach Braff in the opening scene of Garden State. If you haven't seen the movie, that's the scene where he accidentally drives away from the gas station with the gas pump still in his car. Idiot. That makes two of us (although I guess I'm the bigger one, since my experience wasn't in a movie).

I was driving my grandpa's beautiful ride--a 2005 Suburu Outback. My grandpa was in the passenger seat while I pumped the gas for our road trip back to Lake Oswego. To up my chances of one day inheriting his incredible car, I decided to give the windshield an impressive wipe-down while I waited for my latest paycheck to wither in my gas tank. After finishing, I climbed back in the car to hear my grandpa "ooh and aah" at the windshield glimmering in all it's glassy brilliance. Ten points. It was a glorious sight as we drove away--sun beams bursting through the windows, an uppity Oldies song playing on the radio...then suddenly an abrupt CRUSH. It sounded like I was driving over the top of a rug made of alluminum cans. Woops.

"Probably just the curb, " I said as I continued to drive. The only thing that stopped me from pulling out of the gas station parking lot was a bearded man who jumped in front of the car, bouncing and violently flailing his arms around like a rag doll. "What's his problem?" my grandpa said in a moderately sarcastic tone. The man started to point behind me, so I turned around. How embarrassing.

After a quick "Thank you dear Jesus we didn't just blow up the gas station and ourselves" I went inside to apologize for the damage that I didn't exactly know how to repair. Ofcourse, there was a line of customers waiting behind the counter staring at me as I tried to explain what had happened in a frantic tone. And ofcourse, the attendant spoke very little English (which led to me trying to explain, with elaborate guestures, three or four times how I had managed to rip the gas pump out with my car). Without any luck in successfully explaining what had happened, I finally had to take the attendant out to the "crime scene" with me. He just stood there laughing out loud and shaking his head then he waved me and my grandpa on.

"I guess we can go now," I said to my grandpa. Then, in his grandfatherly sweet tone he said, "I'm sure they see this happen all the time."

Let's hope so.

In my defense, I must say I have been an Oregon resident for a whole year now. Perhaps in my moment of stupidity, I had just forgotten what it was like to pump gas on your own.