I was with my son on the way back from a baseball game. The tank was on empty so I stopped the car at the gas station not far from home. After inserting my credit card in the gas pump, I let my son watch the tank fill, and went to the convenience store door hoping to buy a lottery ticket. The door was locked: Be back in 15 minutes. I returned to the car, and after the tank had filled, put the hose on the pump, put the cap on the gas tank and got ready to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a middle-aged woman tugging at the store door. Her accent and clothes suggested she was from India. They're gone, I said. Be back in 15 minutes. She was distraught. I need gas. What will I do. I'd have said: be patient. But in Arizona 15 minutes might mean an hour. (Or drive down the block to the next gas station) Instead I said: Let me buy you some gas.
I walked over and pulled out my credit card. I have money, she said, and handed me a twenty. I took the twenty and started pumping the gas. Then she said: I hate Arizona! Everyone's too laid back. No one wants to work. I'm from back East. ARIZONA IS LIKE LIVING IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY! She said angrily.
I started to giggle, and she told me to stop laughing. The pump stopped. The tank was full and the meter read $27. She offered me more money. Da nada, said I, in Arizona we like to buy people free gas. I'm so laid back.
