Have you pulled in to your friendly Chevron station or fill-in-the-blank-with-your-favorite-petroleum-dispensary lately, pulled out your credit card, stepped out into the fabulously brisk fall air, inhaled the breeze and the monotonous drone of nearby traffic and rotely begun the process of refueling only TO HAVE THIS HORRIBLE GRATING VOICE SCREAMING AT YOU ABOUT THE FREE CAR WASH WITH 82 FILL UPS OF 8 GALLONS MINIMUM AND A CUP OF COFFEE AND A SNICKER BAR JUST $2.98 INSIDE AND...

AAAaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Make it go away! Suddenly this uninvited, screaming person is infomercialing all of the pleasantness of life away.

I start frantically pushing buttons, trying to make it stop. I jab my finger at the mangled mute button, ignoring the fact that the mangledness indicates its less than satisfactory performance. I start poking every button I can find. I notice Caroline's disturbed face pressed to the window as her Mommy becomes a freak show desperate to make this unseen screaming lady go back inside her magic box and be sealed away forever.

Parker sticks his head out of the roof, "What's wrong Mommy? Who is that talking? What are you doing? Are you okay?" My crazed look causes him to sink slowly down to the safety of the back seat.

I finally see an option for "cancel." I press it excitedly and then clench my teeth and start heavy nose breathing as I realize that the lady is still talking but I have shut off the gas flowing to my car after only .83 gallons. Grrrrr. I replace the nozzle, get back out the credit card, put the nozzle back into the car, select my fuel grade AGAIN and start the gas flowing again while silently trying to decide if now was a good time to take up cursing.

I decide nay on the cursing and yes on abuse. I started jabbing my car key repeated into the mute button (as others had done by the mangledness of it all, and this gave me hope) and...she shut up! Yes! Happy dance around the gas pump! Cha Cha cha cha cha! Wave at the unevenly raised unibrow man in the gas store who is now looking at me with suspicion. But I don't care!

Relaxed and self satisfied I return the nozzle, get my receipt and get back in the car. Caroline turns to me, wrinkles her nose and enunciating carefully says "Is that like Talking Tina?"

An involuntary chill runs down my spine.

I calmly reply, "Yes, Caroline. It is."

If you are ignorant of all things cultural (Such as the all time classics, I'm My Own Grandpa and Tiptoe Through the Tulips.) you may have to Google "Twilight Zone" "Rod Serling" and "Talking Tina." Watch it and you will understand. Or just ask Uncle Jimmy. He knows.

One of my favorite episodes ever, Talking Tina. But to compare her to an evil gas pump infomercial? Hmm.

It was the appears-benign-and-friendly-but-is-not type thing. Ask Caroline.

Yow! I've not yet encountered an evil gas pump infomercial! Hope I never do, but where are they so I can try to avoid?

I went to the station last week and the infomercial did not turn on. Ruth, I think we are all safer now. :)