It’s only just started to get dark and I’m leaned over the passenger seat of my car frantically rummaging through my bag when a wash of panic comes over me.
I’ve filled my car to the brim with petrol…and in my rush to get out of the house, I left my wallet on my bed. Face-palm.
Now I’m going to have to walk in and tell the attendant that I’ve filled my car with fuel, have no available means by which I can pay for it and that I swear I’m a trustworthy person.
Luckily the attendant is lovely and understanding. I leave my sunglasses as collateral (desperate times call for desperate measures) and drive home with my tail between my legs and a good half hour down the drain before returning to pay for my fuel.
Top Comments
I’m failing to see how the lack of an app before now has necessitated anything other than trackies and uggs. I’m fairly certain that as long as you pay, the attendant doesn’t really care what you’re wearing.