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Gas Station Suggestions

Today I spent a lot of time with Joy. For a decent part of the day we were arguing away. Joy levied accusation after accusation against me, my character, and my various dissapproved of behaviors.

There was one thing that was pretty fun though. On the way to her house — to pick up my car — I decided to be funny and do this thing that she always does to me. So, we stop at this gas station, but before we stop I suggest a pump for us to get our gas from. Joy was going to that pump anyway, and that is where the fun began…

See, Joy and I have this thing. I am either ready to do something or in the process of doing it and Joy will “tell me to do” whatever it was that I was doing or about to do. This is frustrating to me, because I don’t particularly like being told what to do, and in these particular situations I certainly don’t need it either.

Joy never understands what I am talking about when I try to explain this all to her. She just counters everything and things that I am being unreasonable. That may be, but at least now she can empathize. {grin}

OK, so where was I? (Scrolls up) Aha! So, I tell Joy to go to this one pump, which was the pump she had chosen (in her mind) to go to anyway. However, because I told suggested the one pump she decided to drive by it and go to the next one. She just wanted to be defiant because I was being silly beforehand. So, as she pulls past the first pump to the next pump I decide that we need to have fun with this whole situation. I strongly suggest in typical Joy fashion that she stop since we were next to a pump. She was in the process of stopping already so she went ahead and stopped, but she told me to “quit it.” She didn’t really say what she wanted me to quit, but I agreed anyway and suggested that she ‘hop out of the car and pump some gas’ all in the same breath with a huge grin on my face.

At this point Joy removes her hand from the door handle (you must know that she was moving toward the door when I made my suggestion for this to be funny,) tells me to quit it, and tries to tickle me, which is hilarious because I am already laughing at that point, and she is physically suggesting that I laugh when I’m already laughing. This makes me laugh even harder.

So we wrestle in the car while we’re laughing hysterically and frantically at the same time. Good times. Then she feels like she is done with that effort and slightly turns for the door. I tell her to hop out and pump some gas of course, and she reels around with a big ole smile on her face and tells me to stop it again. I am laughing again, and I say that I’m done already — she doesn’t need to tell me to stop! Then I start to tell her how frustrating it is when she does that to me, but she has already pounced on me halfway into the sentence to tickle me some more.

This whole thing keeps on going all the while as she gets out of the car, pumps gas, selects regular, gets a receipt, gets in the car, shuts the door, puts on her seatbelt, starts the car, and drives. Before each of those tasks I had strongly suggested Joy-style that she do them and then broken out in laughter. This part sounds pretty annoying, and perhaps it would have been but we were both laughing pretty hard so it was all good. In fact, when Joy was leaving the gas station she was still trying to tickle me and didn’t stop until I argued that it was dangerous to drive and roughhouse in the car at the same time.

Ahhh, good times. Good times.

Posted by David under Uncategorized |