Here's one for us Old Farts.....

[3fan4life]

I've done it.

[Jess from VA]

You bet.  

But when I was pumping gas, some of those cars had the craziest hidden gas ports you could imagine. Swing out/up tail lights, inside big rear fins, vettes up behind the rear window, VWs under the hood trunk.

A number of times, I gave up looking and had to walk back to the driver and ask him where his gas hole was.  

[cookiedough]

I think that would be 99% of us on this website then....  

who you calling OLD,  I just turned only age 50 only 5 years away from getting 10% discount at most restaurants, right?  

I asked my kid a few years ago when age 16/17 if he knew where my dads old 1986 caprice classic sitting at my moms house still where to put gas in it.  He had NO fricking clue looking all around the rear of the car for the flip opener on the side he gave up showed him flipping the license plate down.  He thought that was super cool being able to conceal the gas filler area as well as being able to go on either side of the gas stations pumps easy enough.

Next question I asked him if he knew where the bright/dim switch was for that 1980s boat machine car.  He looked around on the turn signal, etc. switches by steering wheel having no clue again.  I showed him the metal floor button on left upper side on the floor you push with your left foot on to go from dim to bright back to dim headlights.  He said that was super cool as well.  Dads 1976 caprice classic had it, my 1978 buick skylark, and the 86 caprice as well I grew up driving when younger.  Before dad's passing 12 years ago in 2008,  he was looking at getting a 1996 caprice classic last year made but never got around to getting one or I would be driving that daily as well.

My kid thinks it is cool to open the rear trunk of the 1986 caprice classic also not knowing where the turn key was to open the trunk showing him the flip open metal caprice emblem cover on top of the key area in middle of trunk (another cool feature he thought) and seeing where you can easily fit 4 adults inside the trunk going back about 6-7 feet deep and guessing 6 feet wide.  He also liked bouncing up and down on the front and rear all metal chrome bumpers sticking out saying he cannot do this on modern plastic bumpers nowadays.  

ONLY bad thing is do not hit an immovable object like a house or garage framing or tree, etc.  for no airbags, etc. solid steel construction big car does not absorb impacts nor crumple much at all just ask the pontiac sunbird who ran a stop sign hitting me doing around 30-35 mph driving dads caprice left front quarter panel bent back out drove caprice home  after police report while that poor sunbird front end was crumpled in taking out everything engine, etc.  like an accordian was totaled easily.  

[hubcapsc]

Gas is $1.49 now too  ... Carolyn told me she saw that it
was going up though...

-Mike

[carolinarider09]

For three summers I worked at the Chapin Shell Gas Station in Myrtle Beach, SC  (64-66).  It was (as were almost all stations back then) full service. 

Two cars did intrigue and confuse me, one was the one shown above.  I was stressed by the logic of putting gas into a tail light area with a potential voltage present at any time (I was an avid Amateur Radio Operator at the time).  But, it was what it was. 

The other was a Renault Dauphine.  One came into the station once and I had to ask the driver where the gas cap was.  It was under the rear hood.  There was the radiator cap, the gas cap and the oil cap.  And, if I remember correctly, the names or whatever they used to identify the various fluid orifices were in French.  Darn confusing. 

And ripe for a young man to make the mistake.   

[sandy]

Gas is $1.49 now too  ... Carolyn told me she saw that it
was going up though...

-Mike

Mike, that price is 0.149/gal.

[3fan4life]

You bet.  

But when I was pumping gas, some of those cars had the craziest hidden gas ports you could imagine. Swing out/up tail lights, inside big rear fins, vettes up behind the rear window, VWs under the hood trunk.

A number of times, I gave up looking and had to walk back to the driver and ask him where his gas hole was.  

My Grandfather had a 57 Chevy like this one.

It was even the same color.

Probably the first car that I was ever allowed to put gas in.

[_Sheffjs_]

You bet.  

But when I was pumping gas, some of those cars had the craziest hidden gas ports you could imagine. Swing out/up tail lights, inside big rear fins, vettes up behind the rear window, VWs under the hood trunk.

A number of times, I gave up looking and had to walk back to the driver and ask him where his gas hole was.  

. Worked a gas station in 78 (HS Years) I remember hidden caps, I love it!

[f6john]

I still have a couple of cars with the filler neck behind the license plate even though they are almost 30 years apart. 1967 Chevelle and 95 Impala SS.

[John Schmidt]

I remember when I didn't have to get out to fill the tank, the station staff did it for you. Later in hi-school I worked in a couple gas stations, one of my favorite duties was washing the windshield if the honey behind the wheel was good looking. Catching a view from above was payment indeed...especially for a teenage male.  

[MAD6Gun]

 I just did on Saturday when I filled up my 70 Bonneville. Behind the plate. My neighbor was next to me and commented he hadn't seen that in years.

[carolinarider09]

I remember when I didn't have to get out to fill the tank, the station staff did it for you. Later in hi-school I worked in a couple gas stations, one of my favorite duties was washing the windshield if the honey behind the wheel was good looking. Catching a view from above was payment indeed...especially for a teenage male.  

John,

I was going to post a very similar "observation" of my time pumping gas (but was not sure it fit).  I don't know where you were at the time but, being at the Beach, the clientele was generally very youthful in the evenings and the guy I worked with on afternoon and nights, (his name escapes me but he was also a fisherman, nets and such, and always use to look up when we were working in the afternoons and say "Looks like its gonna fair off") always let me wash the windshields.  He'd pump the gas and I'd check the oil and clean the windshield.   

[old2soon]

I remember when I didn't have to get out to fill the tank, the station staff did it for you. Later in hi-school I worked in a couple gas stations, one of my favorite duties was washing the windshield if the honey behind the wheel was good looking. Catching a view from above was payment indeed...especially for a teenage male.  

                    Short skirts and low cut tops. And very interesting if they wore a mini skirt. Or JOY of JOYS braless!     Pumped a gallon or three and scraped expired-well mostly expired bugs offin windshields. Every one of those similar gas caps and others like them I've pumped gas into. I also Knew most of my regulars and who Needed a quart or two of oil along with the gas fill up. Or who needed water. All that Service for bout 25-30 cents a gallon. RIDE SAFE.

[Bighead]

who you calling OLD,  I just turned only age 50 only 5 years away from getting 10% discount at most restaurants, right?  

No cookie you can get that little red AARP card now and start getting that discount now.

[signart]

I stopped a Kroger's fuel station in my '53 Coupe Deville and raised my tail light to pump the gas and noticed a young fellow at the next pump staring with eyes the size of half dollars as I plunged the nozzle into the housing. I looked at him and said "Don't try this on your car".



I just scored a pair of those NOS tail lenses and those clear back up lenses from an attic parts stash of a recently deceased car collector.

[sheets]

Pumped gas for a buck-an-hour in the summer before I turned 16. Hitchhiked to/from work. Gas wars and blue or green stamps - sometimes dishes and such - gas @ .25 - .30 per gallon. Full service. First car was a `62 Renault Dauphine. Ya left me scratching my head on where the gas filler cap was. Do recall it had a two-tone horn; city sound and country sound, and a crank to manually turn the engine over if the starter failed. Had the car for about six months . . . got rear-ended on a freeway in stopped traffic . Saw it coming in the mirror  . Hunkered down in the seat - feet on the brakes and hung on to the steering wheel. Totaled the car. I walked away. No recollection of where the gas filler cap was situated. I had to google a pic. The brain works (or not) in mysterious ways.   

[carolinarider09]

My first car, that I actually picked out in 67 or so, was a 1959 MGA (A friend at college had an Austin Healy 3000 and this was as close as I could get, maybe $600 then).

It had a 12 volt electrical system supplied by two 6 volt batteries under the jump seat.  The batteries were separated by the drive shaft tunnel so they were wired in series.  

It had a hand crank.  I use to use it on occasion to impress my friends or when the batteries were getting low.

Side curtains for "windows".  

I drove that car all over.  Went from GA to Great Lakes, IL, and back more than once.  Had to give it to my sister when I got married and we got a 1970 yellow Ford Maverick, three speed manual, January 1970.  The picture is the day I got the car.  Had to have my dad co-sign since I was just a E-4, navy enlisted.  I think it was right at $2,000. 

[old2soon]

       1962 I was 17 and Dad traded a used up 54 Ford 2 door straight 6 with 3 on the tree for a new 62 Rambler American. Believe it was like a hundred and a quarter and I drove the Ford back to whence it came and Dad in his new Rambler. First thing I did was put a Hurst floor shift kit in it carpeted it and went to a wrecking yard and bought a Leather blue and white seat from a 55 Crown Vic for 10 bucks. And anywhere I drove my friends needed to ante up gas money. 6 gallons of gas and two packs of luckies and we were Golden!  Course pine floats at the A & W!  RIDE SAFE.

[John Schmidt]

I remember when I didn't have to get out to fill the tank, the station staff did it for you. Later in hi-school I worked in a couple gas stations, one of my favorite duties was washing the windshield if the honey behind the wheel was good looking. Catching a view from above was payment indeed...especially for a teenage male.  

John,

I was going to post a very similar "observation" of my time pumping gas (but was not sure it fit).  I don't know where you were at the time but, being at the Beach, the clientele was generally very youthful in the evenings and the guy I worked with on afternoon and nights, (his name escapes me but he was also a fisherman, nets and such, and always use to look up when we were working in the afternoons and say "Looks like its gonna fair off") always let me wash the windshields.  He'd pump the gas and I'd check the oil and clean the windshield.   

Hey Carolina....agewise I have 10 yrs. on you and seeing as much as a bare knee in my day was quite a sight....and treat. You quickly learned who the "risque" customers were, they would purposely tease you a bit, seemed to be the older gals though. Those more "mature" women around 19-20 yrs. old were the worst. Recall one rather forward lady came in at least 3 times a week, never took much gas but always asked me to check her oil. It was at least 7-8 yrs. later that I realized what she was asking of me. What a dufuss I was, like most teenagers...I thought I had all the answers but didn't yet have a clue as to what the questions were. 

[Jess from VA]

I remember when I didn't have to get out to fill the tank, the station staff did it for you. Later in hi-school I worked in a couple gas stations, one of my favorite duties was washing the windshield if the honey behind the wheel was good looking. Catching a view from above was payment indeed...especially for a teenage male.  

John,

I was going to post a very similar "observation" of my time pumping gas (but was not sure it fit).  I don't know where you were at the time but, being at the Beach, the clientele was generally very youthful in the evenings and the guy I worked with on afternoon and nights, (his name escapes me but he was also a fisherman, nets and such, and always use to look up when we were working in the afternoons and say "Looks like its gonna fair off") always let me wash the windshields.  He'd pump the gas and I'd check the oil and clean the windshield.  

Both you guys are a bit older than me.  But I lucked out as miniskirts (and minidresses) were all the rage in the late 60's when I was pumping gas and washing windshields (boss's orders were every car got it's windshield cleaned spotless, and this could take a long time, if you worked at it).   Those skirts got so short that anything other than standing up was indecent (without crossed legs).  Except no one crosses their legs in the drivers seat.

I see London, I see France, I see someone's underpants.  This was a daily (or hourly) event at the old Mobil Station and it was the best fringe benefit this 15-16yo got, besides his $1.25 an hour, and blue shirt with his name on it.


And if that sounds pervy..... oh well.  

[Reb]

I’m the 1%

Ya'll are old as dirt... but I do enjoy restoring the relics of your days 

[Patrick]

I've done it.

It looks like that pic was taken in NYS [?]


I miss the mini-skirts !


Wisconsin has dinner discounts for those 55 and older ?!    Hehehe, so do you figure the tip on the standard or discount price ?

[SpidyJ]

....my '65 Impala.  Would love to have another before I check out. 

[msb]

I recall the days of gas attendants as well. In one of the small towns I lived when I first got my driver's licence, the several stations there would always be competing for customers. The Pacific 66 station where a good buddy of mine  worked as a mechanic on weekends, for a few Summers had young ladies  dressed in Black bikinis as their gas jockeys. Needless to say 90% of the vehicles filling up there in the Summer were young fellas like me, or older guys that had left the Mrs at home to go get gas...

I don't ever go through there any more since I moved, but up to about 5 years ago at least there was one smaller municipality just outside of Vancouver where all gas stations were mandated to have gas attendants to pump gas. I'd always go through that town (Coquitlam) to fill up in the Winter months when on my way into the office...was nice to sit in the warm truck sipping coffee while getting the tank filled. With about an hour's drive to the office 5 days a week when I wasn't travelling, I'd have to fill up at least once  every week so the attendants got to recognize me. I'd always bring donuts or muffins for them, and give them gift cards at Christmas. I'll have to check to see if that ordinance is still in place there...

[carolinarider09]

Hey Carolina....agewise I have 10 yrs. on you and seeing as much as a bare knee in my day was quite a sight....and treat. You quickly learned who the "risque" customers were, they would purposely tease you a bit, seemed to be the older gals though. Those more "mature" women around 19-20 yrs. old were the worst. Recall one rather forward lady came in at least 3 times a week, never took much gas but always asked me to check her oil. It was at least 7-8 yrs. later that I realized what she was asking of me. What a dufuss I was, like most teenagers...I thought I had all the answers but didn't yet have a clue as to what the questions were.  
[/quote]

Now I did get a real chuckle out of that story.  I don't think I ever got such an offer, but in the back of my mind I think maybe a few years later, something similar happened.  

The only two things that might be similar was that the man who operated the station was "Charlie" (I forget his last name) and he, every afternoon like clockwork, would open the desk drawer and take out a pint of his favorite whiskey and begin to enjoy.  Sometimes he stayed pretty straight, sometimes you could tell he was a few over his limit.  

The other thing, gotta remember I was 18 maybe and maybe naive (shall we say inexperienced) but....

A customer walks in one afternoon (man, middle aged if memory serves) and says in a whisper in my ear\
"You got any rubbers?".  I swear I remember it to this day.  My first thought was "shoes" (like for rain but it was not raining out).  Then, maybe he next used the word "condom", and the lights came on.

I asked Charlie and Charlie gave me the key to the cigarette machine in office and told me they were in the bottom and the price was 25 cents.  

Further observation after my awaking about that was the way people asked for them (always men).  Some whispered, some almost shouted.  

Memories.  

[carolinarider09]

I know, I type a lot, but its sort of fun to share stories I rarely share because, well....

My first real job was working for a moving company, Mayflower.  I was 16 (1962 or so), maybe and it was only the summer. 

Most of our jobs (or a lot of them) were moving people out of Base Housing for the Myrtle Beach Air Force Base.

We would go into the housing unit and begin packing, everything, stuff in the kitchen (dishes, ect) books, papers, and clothing.  Now, a 16 year old male  being asked to pack up the contents of a ladies dresser is/was an eye opening and educational experience.     

[Jess from VA]

Gas station stories:

I was the youngest guy working there.  The next older guy (18) was called Muskie (for muskrat, he had a big nose; this was long before political correctness).  

The drinking age was 21 in MI, but you could run down I-75 to Toledo (50 minutes) and drink 3.2 beer at 18 (and there were a couple giant bars down there, with good bands, that catered to this crowd).  This had been such a big deal, for so long, that guys who had run down there under 21, just kept going anyway.

There were also a couple houses of ill repute down there.

So a couple of the older guys (20 something) were going down Friday night and they agreed to take Muskie.  And they decided to take him to a house of ill repute first.... for his first, you-know.  

Muskie was all excited about this and asking lots of questions.  I wasn't going but was all ears.  Muskie asked about the whore house procedures, and cost.  The older guys explained that price was variable depending on what you wanted, but the gal always took you over to a sink and washed you off first.

Muskie thought about this for a while and then asked.... was there a discount if you didn't make it past the sink?  Everyone laughed pretty hard, but Muskie was serious (after all, we only made $1.25hr).  

They decided there probably wasn't a discount.

____________

The boss was always looking for ways to make extra money.  One day he comes in and says we are going to start washing huge Con Edison trucks.  This was the royal we, as he wasn't going to be washing anything. The plant was a couple miles down the road from the station, and we would ride down in pairs in the station pickup, and then drive one back, which we pump jockeys would then wash in-between pumping gas.  I was just 16 and still learning to drive my old Volkswagen manual shift.  So off I go to pick up a truck, and I'm the guy driving it (all 4-speeds).  Holy crap was I bad at it, and it's a good thing there wasn't much traffic or any turns.  I don't think Con Ed would have given the boss the job, if they knew who was driving their trucks (and grinding their gears).  They weren't fire department hook and ladder jobs or semi trailers, but almost as big and long.

___________

The night of the moon landing (July 20, 1969), we closed the station early, and the whole crew turned out to completely unload our three bay garage, and paint the whole inside.  That was a monster job.  The boss loaded the big ice machine outside with many cases of Budweiser.  So we worked, loaded, painted, drank and watched the landing on a small black and while portable.  We were still working when the sun came up, and we were all drunk as lords.  About half of us were underage, but we weren't telling anyone.  

There were only a few minor injuries, but you can't believe how powerful the bounce is on a fully inflated (used) tire and wheel pulled out of a rack way up near the ceiling when it gets away from you and is dropped to the floor from up there.  It was a big mistake to try and catch it on the short hop.

_____________

We had a regular customer, an ancient black man whose name (on his license, I saw it) was General E. Lee Elderby, who drove an equally ancient Cadillac.  One day he comes rolling in on a flat tire, and it wasn't just flat, it was past cords and had turned into rubber bands.  He asked me to fix it for him, and I said Sir, that tire is way beyond fixing, you'll need a new tire.  Well, he didn't have much money and insisted if I had some soul I could fix it. The other guys in the shop were now watching, and they took up the cause, insisting I just didn't have any soul (with a lot of laughter) (of course Detroit was the home of Motown and soul was a big thing).  

So I checked the size and went inside and looked at our used tires (which today would never be sold because many of them were already on cords), and we had one that was the right size.  So I came out and said Mr Elderby, it's $2.50 to plug a tire, and $3.50 to patch the inside, and I have a used tire in there that is $2.50 and it's $5.00 to mount and balance it, but we aren't going to bother balancing it, so I can do that job for you for $5.00, how does that sound?

So that's what we did, and I just hoped that tire went flat when he was too far from the station to call and ask me to fix it.  And for the next month, everyone kept telling me I had no soul at all.  

[sheets]

In the era of my gas station job my brother had a `58 MG - red convertible, wire wheels w/knockoff spinners. Soon after procuring the rig he took my mom for a spin. The MG had a "pull" knob in the center of the dash to trigger the starter. Aside from a key switch the knob was not in the most ergonomically correct position for the driver as it could have been. Soon after mom got situated brother pulled on the knob . . . which apparently was on its last thread securing the knob to the mechanism. With motor spinning for a couple seconds the knob came free from the connection . . . brother's right hand promptly flew free and back-handed my mom smack-dab on her nose. She was all in a tizzy wanting to know why my brother smacked her. Took a few more minutes to calm her down and get the car started to go for a ride. Brings a tear to my eye laughing just visualizing the scenario  . Brother let me take the car for a spin. I soon learned the throttle linkage ran along the interior passenger side floorboard before linking to the engine compartment. Brother was messing with me . . . him grabbing the linkage with his toes and opening the throttle without me knowing what was going on. A few exciting moments before I realized what was going on  .  

[carolinarider09]

Sheets,

I had forgotten about that pull starter switch, same as my 59 MGA.  It was sort of cool, turn on the key, pull the knob and its starts. 

Mine had wire wheels as well and knock off hubs as well.

Its 1968, I am in the U. S. Navy Electronics Tech training school in Great Lakes, ILL. 

I met a young lady and went up to Kenosha, WI to see her one evening.  I was at her house for a few hours (or we might have gone to the driven inn movie in her Rambler I forget), anyway when I get back to the car, I find the left from knockoff is missing. 

After a few moments of consideration (I had to be back at the base for class the next morning) I got in the car, and drove it back.  And the wheel did not come off.

I don't remember how I repaired it but I do know that I went to the J. C. Whitney store in Chicago and bought new shocks and installed them on all wheels.  And I found the left front wheel shock was sort of strangely canted.  Don't remember where I got the new knock off.

But you know after 53 years the only thing I can remember is the knock off was gone.  And I don't know how long it had been that way. 

[sheets]

 

My oldest brother had a Sunbeam. Wasn't the Tiger rendition, but a little (Alpine?) rag-top sports car nonetheless. As I recall it had an electric (?) overdrive. A separate lever, like a turn-signal lever to activate the overdrive. No clue how it works. Brothers had cool convertible sports cars . . . I had a Renault Dauphine. Scratch'n out an existence at a dollar an hour . . . one does what one can do under the circumstances. Wasn't the coolest car in the `hood, but at least I wasn't thumb'n it. (I did walk the road and collect Coke and 7-up bottles for the .03 (where's the cent key on the keyboard???) deposit on the bottles for gas money). 68 years later somehow I managed to get through it.    

[old2soon]

My oldest brother had a Sunbeam. Wasn't the Tiger rendition, but a little rag-top sports care nonetheless. As I recall it had an electric (?) overdrive. A separate lever, like a turn-signal lever to activate the overdrive. No clue how it works. Brothers had cool convertible sports cars . . . I had a Renault Dauphine. Scratch'n out an existence at a dollar an hour . . . one does what one can do under the circumstances. Wasn't the coolest car in the `hood, but at least I wasn't thumb'n it. (I did walk the road and collect Coke and 7-up bottles for the .03 (where's the cent key on the keyboard???) deposit on the bottles for gas money). 68 years later somehow I managed to get through it.    

         Good ol deposit bottles. 2 cent for the small ones and a nickel for the quart bottles I believe a wood crate brought 2 bucks and some questions.   Kids today have NO idea how to pick up extra money with out askin Mom and Dad. Cut grass in the summer and shoveled snow in the winter for money. Dad was a junk man on weekends. Wanna guess who his helpers were? RIDE SAFE.

[carolinarider09]

Again I apologize for the long story....

In the summer of 1967, I met Big Bad Leroy Brown.

It was my last year in college.  I was a junior, not doing well in the grade department so I was not going to go back (actually ended up to be a good decision).

My recent friend (who drove a 1967 Austin Healy 3000 which makes this post relevant   ) and I decided on the last day of school that we would go to his home town on Long Island (his girl friend lived in New York City).  But we would have to hitchhike.  

So, on one late afternoon in June of 1967 we went out to Two Notch Road in Columbia, SC and stuck out our thumbs.  A few cars passed us by then one stopped.  Inside were two Marines, headed to New York.  We stayed with them all the way to some tunnel just south of New York City.  Spent a few days in New York City, rode my first subway and then we had to head back.  

His girl friend dropped us off at the same tunnel and we stuck out our thumbs.  It was not as good as the ride up.  After several short rides, we ended up on a dark evening somewhere at a small general store somewhere in Virginia. It may have been on US 17 but it was while ago.  

Anyway while we sat outside store, wondering if we would ever get home, a  large black gentlemen dressed in a suit stopped at the store.  He was driving a black (or dark color) Cadillac.  I don’t remember if we asked him for a ride or he offered, but we got in the car and headed south.

As we traveled the gentlemen talked.  He was a diesel mechanic, had his own shop. As we drove through the late evening he showed me, while I was sitting next to him in the front seat, the .32 revolver he carried for personal protection.  As Mr. Brown took is down the road, we chatted as he drove and then we stopped at a house, a nice house in an area with a few other house and he invited us inside.  

It was filled with 10 or 20 teenagers (boys and girls) and since we were the only white people in the house, we got lots of looks, and lots of similes as I remember.  Mr. Brown disappeared into a room at the back of the house leaving us with the other kids (we were in our 20’s so they were younger).  We stood there, just taking it all in, maybe a little scared, but mostly thinking “really”…..  

Mr. Brown returned and we went a little further down the road and he dropped us off.  It was sort of in the middle of nowhere.  My friend had enough and somehow got to a motel and called his parents to pay for the room.  I don’t know how he got home.  I kept hitchhiking and finally made it back to Columbia and stayed with a friend of the family until I got a greyhound for home (Richmond Hill, GA) .  

And if you don’t know Big Bad Leroy Brown…. He was a real person from Sledge , Mississippi (but probably not the one I met).

And Jim Croce wrote a song about him.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9AOYiG1OzU

[The emperor has no clothes]

Kids today have NO idea how to pick up extra money with out askin Mom and Dad. Cut grass in the summer and shoveled snow in the winter for money. Dad was a scrao man on weekends. Wanna guess who his helpers were? RIDE SAFE.

My grandson earned $20 the other day pulling weeds out of our yard. It was only 105*. There are still plenty of young people out working to earn some money.  

[Wizzard]

You bet.  

But when I was pumping gas, some of those cars had the craziest hidden gas ports you could imagine. Swing out/up tail lights, inside big rear fins, vettes up behind the rear window, VWs under the hood trunk.

A number of times, I gave up looking and had to walk back to the driver and ask him where his gas hole was.  

Lol you sure wanted to make good pronunciation when you ask them where the "gashole" was?

[Jess from VA]

You bet.  

But when I was pumping gas, some of those cars had the craziest hidden gas ports you could imagine. Swing out/up tail lights, inside big rear fins, vettes up behind the rear window, VWs under the hood trunk.

A number of times, I gave up looking and had to walk back to the driver and ask him where his gas hole was.  

Lol you sure wanted to make good pronunciation when you ask them where the "gashole" was?

You know, I've used those words since then.

Ten or so years back, I was riding though Old Town Alexandria (traffic ugh), on a nice sunday, and a family likely going home from church, all dressed up, in a nice Town Car was next to me at a light.  I saw that the gas door was open and cap hanging down, and (without choosing words) I said Sir, your gas hole is open.  Well the wife and two daughters in the back instantly broke into laughter, but the guy gave me a real dirty look.  I mumbled sorry, and looked and pointed at his open gas door and then he got it.

 

[Charlie McCready]

I still pump gas behind the tag........'95 Chevy Caprice.

[sheets]

Kids today have NO idea how to pick up extra money with out askin Mom and Dad. Cut grass in the summer and shoveled snow in the winter for money. Dad was a scrao man on weekends. Wanna guess who his helpers were? RIDE SAFE.

My grandson earned $20 the other day pulling weeds out of our yard. It was only 105*. There are still plenty of young people out working to earn some money. 

Was he working for a buck an hour?  I suspect the current 2020 year special family rate - with lunch and lemonade included. Good on grandpa for instilling a no free lunch work ethic. 

[Willow]

I wrestled with whether to share this about myself.  It does show some weakness, some latent adolescent indenture.  Please stop reading if my observations normally offend you.

I am old enough that I spent many years with gas jockeys filling my car tanks.  I normally did fill my own bike tanks.  I remember filling my Honda 305 tank for less than a dollar and it was good for all day riding.

I'm a visual person.  Most of my memories are wrapped in visual containers.  Despite the many years that I experienced full service when it was mentioned only one memory was awakened.  In the early seventies (197x) I was driving a Chrysler 300.  It's a large, wide car. Mine was lime green.  It was the year someone predicted that a gallon of gas and a loaf of bread would cost more than a dollar each.  I told my friends there were two things I would never pay a dollar for.

I stopped on the way home at a service station that used young ladies in shorts as gas jockeys.  I honestly don't remember whether the same employee fueled and cleaned or if they were separate assignments.  I sat in the driver's seat while a young lady cleaned the windshield of the Chrysler.  It was a summer day and she was wearing a tee shirt.  It was a time before the use of squeegees.  She did everything she could to reach over halfway across the windshield and ended up fully stretched across the driver's side with the entire weight of her upper body pressed against the glass.  I had the impression that she would've used the same technique with a narrower vehicle but I don't know for sure.

It must've made a deep impression upon me because even today some almost fifty years later I still find myself unreasonably fascinated by tiny bumps on the fronts of tee shirts.   

[Wizzard]

I wrestled with whether to share this about myself.  It does show some weakness, some latent adolescent indenture.  Please stop reading if my observations normally offend you.

I am old enough that I spent many years with gas jockeys filling my car tanks.  I normally did fill my own bike tanks.  I remember filling my Honda 305 tank for less than a dollar and it was good for all day riding.

I'm a visual person.  Most of my memories are wrapped in visual containers.  Despite the many years that I experienced full service when it was mentioned only one memory was awakened.  In the early seventies (197x) I was driving a Chrysler 300.  It's a large, wide car. Mine was lime green.  It was the year someone predicted that a gallon of gas and a loaf of bread would cost more than a dollar each.  I told my friends there were two things I would never pay a dollar for.

I stopped on the way home at a service station that used young ladies in shorts as gas jockeys.  I honestly don't remember whether the same employee fueled and cleaned or if they were separate assignments.  I sat in the driver's seat while a young lady cleaned the windshield of the Chrysler.  It was a summer day and she was wearing a tee shirt.  It was a time before the use of squeegees.  She did everything she could to reach over halfway across the windshield and ended up fully stretched across the driver's side with the entire weight of her upper body pressed against the glass.  I had the impression that she would've used the same technique with a narrower vehicle but I don't know for sure.

It must've made a deep impression upon me because even today some almost fifty years later I still find myself unreasonably fascinated by tiny bumps on the fronts of tee shirts.   

you and countless untold others

[Wizzard]

I owned an airplane for a number of years. I live near a very small airport but was always told due to proximity to Chicago it was a popular spot to fill up with gas for smaller planes.
Turns out the guy that managed the airports well endowed daughter worked there all summer and wore tank tops all the time and she would wash planes windows. I think fuel sales doubled in the summer. And nobody got out of the plane,