Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Grumble...

...I hate Pilots. Pilot truckstops that is....my brother is a pilot...he owns a small plane...he's OK..but Pilot Truckstops suck.

Or maybe it's me. Of course it's me. Pilot is a big chain...zillions of dollars....dozens of locations. Money talks and big money talks loud....consequently they must be OK.

I shoulda knowd better though. Never, never, ever deal with people before my first pot of coffee and a few cigars. I'm evil-tempered. But noooooooo....not me...uh..uh. I figgered I'd fuel up this morning (something I normally never do)....and toodle on down the road.

The truckstop I staid at last night didn't accept ComChek so fueling there was inconvenient.

Anyways...I pulled up to the fuel island after dodging all the late nite arrivals who parked in the driveway. The wind was blowing and it's chilly. Pilot uses a card reader so I swipe my card. Can't hardly see it in the sunlite. It asks me several questions that don't apply but I gotta answer em or it won't let me fuel. The buttons on the card reader stick so it's a long drawn out process. I finally get it done and it hangs up. I call the fuel desk from the fuel island phone and the little girl inside tells me the card readers are broke so I need to come inside to authorize fueling.

Right......

I drive off. I'll fuel somewhere else.

I hate Pilots....something similar to that always happens when I stop at Pilots.

So...I drive east until I get to Pendleton Or. and pull into the ArrowHead. By now I'm feeling almost human...I've had a pot of coffee or so and a few cigars. They don't have a card reader so I get on the phone...talk for a bout a minit...fuel up...go inside...pay..and what-a-ya know? The have this thing called a "wheel of fortune" and I get to spin it cause I got more than a hundred gallons. I do and I win a knife. Pretty thing. Not good for anything but it's something.

I buy some "high octane coffee" ..some cigars...and I'm ready to roll.

Utah here I come
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