Matt Potter 12:30 p.m., Dec. 13
I love my local gas station. It has a quaintness all it's own. Granted you can't read the display, but I've done it so many times. "Please enter" and I punch in my zip code, 92119. "Select " and I dream of selecting free gas, but I don't think that's an option. Augh, no towels to hold the gas nozzle. Layers of grime stimulate my fingertips. When I'm done filling up, YES or NO? Since there's no car wash here, I bet I'm asking for a receipt. What's the worst that can happen?