Gassed

I was filling up at a gas station last week and after I stuck the pump in, I moved to the other side of the car so as not to inhale the gas fumes. After a while, I vaguely hear water pouring to the ground. Doo dee doo. I pay no heed. Still pouring. But, that IS kind of weird. Hm. On a completely unrelated note, I wonder if my gas is done pumping? I glance through the car windows and the screen says 23 gallons. But. I couldn't have possibly filled up more than 19 gallons. Nooo ... that's not possible ... is it? Panic sets in.

I run over to the pump and horror of horrors, gas is actually POURING out of my tank like a geyser and streaming down the side of my car. GAH! GAH! GAH! Somehow, I manage to pull the pump out, which continues to pump, so now I'm basically holding a gas hose. In this moment, I actually had fleeting thoughts of Zoolander. I frantically trigger the handle, trying to get it to stop and finally FINALLY, it does. By some miracle, I didn't get any gas on me during this whole ordeal, but I did almost fall in the giant puddle of gas pooling at my feet. Gas is slippery.

After I gingerly replaced the gas cap, I knocked on the window and told the attendant what happened. Because somehow, even though she was maybe 20 feet from the pump, she didn't see. She listened to me (pretty sure she had no idea what I was saying), went over to my car, and proclaims, "It's full." Yes, thank you. I wasn't sure before, but now I know. THAT there is a full tank of gas, yessirree. (If I were her, I'd have been like, "Yeah, you're not supposed to top off." And then I'd have a hearty laugh.) I drove away, praying that my car wouldn't go up in flames.

Later, I called Shell and told them what happened and then asked for a refund as my bill was $79 (good way to waste money: pump 23 gallons at $3.50/gallon). They're sending a gift card. Hooray.

Also. My car smells like gas.