Gasoline should be a long enough word to be a valid title, but no

So, I pumped gas and did general service work and repairs and welding, and all that stuff from the time I was about six until I finished college. It was the family service station and it was full service. And no, I don’t mean that kind of full service. But we would fill your tank wash your windows check your tires check your oil and all that jazz. When we changed your oil or did service work, the windows got washed. The inside of the car got vacuumed. The ashtrays got emptied the doors got oiled and you really don’t get that kind of service anymore.

I grew up, smelling old motor oil, breathing in asbestos from brakes, washing my hands and gasoline, which by the way is about the best hand cleaner there is, but I’m not sure my liver will survive it long-term.

In any case, I needed gas in the vehicle, and I stopped at the local self service joint started pumping, and no, I don’t mean that kind of pumping, and wouldn’t you know that the auto stop on that pump did not work. So now I have gas that splattered up on my pant leg and got on my shoes and I’m going to have to spend the rest of the day stinking like gasoline.

For years, it has not smelled as good as I remember when I was working in the garage.