So I was pumping gas today, minding my own business and jamming to the Mexican music coming from the truck parked at the pump behind me. There was a girl having a difficult time using the pump on the other side of the one I was using. I know this because I had the following conversation with her:
She: Excuse me? Do you, like, know what zip code this is?
Me: I'm sorry?
She: It's asking me for the zip code. How the hell do I know?
Me: Um... It means your zip code.
She: Like, why does it care about my zip code?
Me: It's a security measure. To make sure you aren't using a stolen credit card.
She: Oh. That's retarded.
Me (sighing): Yeah.
What I really wanted to say: That's the pot calling the kettle black, sweetie. Have you never pumped gas before?
I did smile as I drove away. I needed a little cheering up today. I really believe God sent her to me as a gift. We all know He has a sense of humor. And I could not make this stuff up if I tried, people.