Gas station attendant of the past |
I ran to the supermarket to get cat food since we were down to only about five cans and that makes my cat nervous. Actually it makes my husband nervous but that's a different story. Anyway, since this is 2025 and things are so up-to-date, I had the pleasure of checking out my own groceries at the super-duper-market since only one of the dozen checkout aisles had someone working the register. So there I was doing the job myself, and since I had amassed about 20 cans of cat food, along with a few other items for the humans, it was quite annoying and tiresome. (No wonder they can't find workers!)
Then I stopped to get gas. It's 22 degrees here in Maine right now, let me add, although according to the wind chill factor on my phone it feels like 13. Dressed inappropriately sans hat and gloves, I of course had to do the job myself. Teeth chattering, I fondly remembered the days of my youth when a nice man in a uniform would approach me, ask how much gas I wanted, and then would clean my front and rear windshields and check my oil and tires after filling the tank, all while I sat cozily inside my car listening to the radio.
I miss those people. I also miss the receptionists at all the offices who answered the phones on the first or second ring and asked how they could be of help. I miss getting a doctor's appointment for the next day, instead of being told in January that "he's booking into July."
Yeah, I'm old enough to remember those times. Thank God, because if this is all there ever was I'd be pretty damn depressed.
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