I don't approve of the John Waynes and the Gary Coopers saying "Shucks, I ain't no actor - I'm just a bridge builder or a gas station attendant." If they aren't actors, what the hell are they getting paid for? I have respect for my profession. I worked hard at it.
Last time I had a flat tire, I pulled my truck into one of those side-of-the-road gas stations. The attendant walks out, looks at my truck, looks at me, and I swear he said, Tire go flat? I couldn't resist. Said, Nope. I was driving around and those other three just swelled right up on me. Here's your sign.
I turned and looked into the gas station, where Wes was now paying, as the man who'd driven us looked on. "That's too bad," I said. "It's okay, though," she assured me. "Someday I'll show you an extraordinary boy, Macy. They do exist. You just have to believe me." "Don't worry," I said. "I do.
After the oil spill, I had this strong feeling that if I ever were to be blessed in having children, I never wanted my kids to see me pumping gas at a gas station. I think it's our responsibility to make the changes that we need to take regardless of convenience.
Restrooms at gas stations were an unpleasant and shocking surprise; I had never considered the serious drawbacks of such lazily-cleaned rooms. I was completely unable to ignore the filth, and wasted a burst of power to turn the sink, floors and porcelain toilet into sparkling, clean examples of their kind before using the facility. I felt that was a much less judgmental response than simply blowing the place off the face of the Earth, which was also a distinct temptation, especially when the storekeeper overcharged me for a bottle of cold water.
The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge. And I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. Probably at the next gas station.
So I was at the gas station the other day, and I saw that there was braille on the pumps. I don't see how they can cater to blind drivers. I mean, there are certain rights you should lose once you lose what makes you a person.
Where did she come from, and where can I find one?" "Picked this one up at a gas station in West Virginia, bargain price. Last one on the shelf, sorry.
I loved Catholic school. I didn't like being beeped at by old pervs at the gas station because I was wearing a plaid skirt, though. It's like, do you think I'm going to stop and give you my phone number?
I try not to listen to other music. I have to keep my mind open for what's coming in as a songwriter. If I go into the gas station and pay for gas, whatever song was playing when I was in there is in my head for the next few days and I can't change the channel.
You don't necessarily have to write to be a poet. Some people work in gas stations and they're poets. I don't call myself a poet, because I don't like the word. I'm a trapeze artist.
His name was Rambo, and he was just some nothing kid for all anybody knew, standing by the pump of a gas station at the outskirts of Madison, Kentucky.
To Wall Street, a firm like BP isn't just a profitable energy company with lots of assets like oil rigs and pipelines and gas stations - it's also a corporation that routinely borrows hundreds of millions of dollars to keep its business up and running.
I had three jobs my junior and senior year of high school. I worked for the gas station and worked for a pizza place.
I was living in Monterey, a place where the classic photographers - the Westons, Wynn Bullock and Ansel Adams - came for a privileged view of nature. But my daily life very rarely took me to Point Lobos or Yosemite; it took me to shopping centers, and gas stations and all the other unhealthy growth that flourished beside the highway. It was a landscape that no one else had much interest in looking at. Other than me.
The consumption of alcohol is increasing among youth. Targeting young audiences, advertisers portray beer and wine as joyful, socially desirable, and harmless. Producers are promoting new types of alcoholic beverages as competitors in the huge soft-drink market. Grocery and convenience stores and gas stations stock alcoholic beverages side by side with soda pop. Can Christians who are involved in this commerce be indifferent to the physical and moral effects of the alcohol from which they are making their profits?
At the end of drama school, I made a contract with myself: I'd try acting for five years. I was 26. I had already spent eight years working in restaurants and gas stations. So I had seen enough small businesses to understand that that's what acting is: a small business.
Psycho? The woman's senile. We had to stop at about thirty gas stations on the way over here. Finally I got tired of getting out of the car and showing her which was the Men's and which was the Women's, so I let her pick them herself. I worked out a system. The law of averages. I laid money on her and she came out about fifty-fifty.
Half-drunk on well-creamed gas station coffee and the exhilarating loneliness of a freeway in nighttime.
I have candy all the time. I live on gummy bears and peach rings. They're like dried-up peaches, only dipped in sugar. You can get 'em at gas stations. They're like 99 cents for four bags. And cashews. I love cashews.
Living in a small town you couldn't go anywhere on a Saturday where a store had the game on. If you were downtown you heard the game. If you were at the gas station you heard the game. I remember I would be mowing the lawn and I would stop for the Nebraska game. I would have it cranking outside.
Oil companies have gas stations. There's this whole huge structure that is about finding a new liquid for the tank. And the idea that maybe there shouldn't be a liquid, that maybe the best is an electrical grid, a sustainably powered electrical grid that we all plug into, that doesn't sit well with oil companies.
I don't live in the papal residence. I live in a simple apartment behind the Vatican gas station.
I went into the gas station, said, Fill 'er up, Harry. The guy said, Regular? I said, No, put on a gorrila suit and dance like a fairy.
You might be a redneck if your wife wants to stop at the gas station to see if they've got the new Darrell Waltrip Budweiser wall clock.
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