When there was embarrassment in the pipeline

More shame on the crowded petrol station forecourt as a simple matter of filling the tank with diesel became a public humiliation.

When we arrived at pump eight, the unleaded and the diesel hoses were intertwined.

“We’d better untangle them,” I said and passed my husband the unleaded nozzle as I released the diesel nozzle.

As we unravelled them there was a loud crackle as the forecourt loudspeaker sprang into life: “Would the gentleman at number eight please put his hose back in the holder,” instructed a very loud voice.

All eyes turned to pump eight where the gentleman in question was hastily shoving his hose back into its holder.


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