I know I’ve written before about my thing with gas stations. I prefer to use the same ones over and over.
If I were driving around and low on gas it would never occur to me to stop at the first gas station I saw. I keep an eye on my gas level and fill up at my usual spot as soon as it gets close to 1/4 tank. Or, sometimes my sweetheart tanks it for me.
When the grocery store tells me I have a bunch of points and I can get cheap gas at their station, I’m like, who cares? I’m never going to go there.
You’d think this would be more problematic for me than it is. I’ve gotten so good at managing my anxieties.
On trips to Orleans, I always stop at the same places.
One of my favorites was a gas station in Roseburg. The last time I was there the attendant very chatty and charming. In case anyone reading this doesn’t know, in Oregon you can’t pump your own gas. He told me he was 83 and lived his whole life in the area and didn’t travel much because he cared for his 83 year old blind wife.
You can imagine how awful I felt when my next trip, barely a couple months later, the gas station was closed.
