Smoking at the Pump (part 1)

I saw something crazy this morning. And it lead me down an
interesting train of thought. First, I thought I’d detail the event.
Later, I’ll post on the thought train.

I pulled up to the pump to fill up my car for a cool $36, and I notice
a woman at another pump smoking while removing (a lot of) snow from
her windshield. Forget the fact that she drove to the pump with a
view of the road comparable to a German tank during the blitzkrieg.
Let’s focus on the inevitable spills of gasoline on the ground around
pumps and her ashes. I was pondering saying something, but she was
soon back in her car. I saw the top of a head at the pump area and
realized she had a man with her pumping the gas. Ok, so she wasn’t
thinking about the fuse in her mouth when she cleaned the windshield.
I turn around and go about my business.

As I’m waiting for my $36 to go away, I see the man get in the car,
and with a full view, see that it’s a teenager with a gas can. It was
exposed to the air, because he had the spout screwed on it, not the
cap. To my horror, he drove away with that in his lap, truly riding
in the “death seat” of shotgun.

A little science for the uninitiated. Gasoline in liquid form burns
but does not explode. Gasoline fumes explode. As a matter of fact,
that’s essentially how the make a Daisy Cutter, the non-nuclear bomb
used in Afghanistan. Oh, and it happens to be how your engine runs.
Fuel, misted in air, with a spark… boom.

Here in Ohio, it’s cold, so their windows were up. Open gas can in
his lap. Salem Light in her mouth. I think she was his mother.
Regardless, I can only hope they made it to their destination.