A few items on pumping gasoline:

1. I tell the machine my debit card is a credit card. I do this because it makes me feel safe. I also do this because it feels a little bit bad, and I like that.

2. I, for one, would rather die than pay inside. I pay at the pump and I decide when it stops. If I land on an even number, then I’ll have good luck for the rest of the day. I will not spend more than $15.00.

3. The pump asks me to “lift the handle”. I don’t know what it wants from me. I put the nozzle into my car hole. When I go to pull the trigger, I realize I need to select a flavor of gas. I choose the cheapest.

4. Maria Menounos appears on a television screen built into the gas pump. She shows me a new recipe for watermelon salad. It’s just watermelons, feta, and basil. We live in a dystopian society.

5. I know that I should sanitize my hands, but I don’t. I know I should have hand sanitizer in my car, but I don’t. I’m reading a book to cure an undiagnosed eating disorder. The book suggests the following exercise, filled and filed for today’s drama:

   I want hand sanitizer in my car. I wish I had hand sanitizer in my car. But right now I don’t. What am I going to do with that?