I didn’t need gas, but I had to stop in. How could I not? I wanted to be able to tell everyone I knew what I paid.
I pumped less than four gallons into the tank. The pump showed $7.51, which I pushed up to $7.55.
Then I went inside. I told the woman at the register that I didn’t really need gas, but I had to stop when I saw the sign.
She laughed. She said I wasn’t the only one. She took my money.
The next guy to the cash register waved a $10 bill in the air and that was his total tab. He must have done what I had.
It was a great feeling, a minor victory in the present economic battle. I didn’t know the other guy. He seemed to be enjoying the moment as I was.
Have you ever bought a coin where the purpose was the ability to brag that you got it, or that you got it at an incredible price?
Collectors do that. There is a competitiveness behind our acquisitiveness. In fact, the existence of registry sets at the Web sites of the major grading services is a testimonial to this impulse.
It seems strange. Another collector craving is privacy. We don’t want to be marked for burglary or robbery.
So we have sets that are assembled and sold under assumed names. Understandable.
On Saturday I could enjoy a moment in the daily routine. It satisfied my acquisitiveness and neither of us purchasers knew the other.