“I stood out there squeezing that handle for five minutes.”

I looked at the screen.

Pump three was busy pumping gas into an entirely different car.

“I put it on number three, I suppose,” I said.

“My truck’s at pump four,” the man said, his voice getting louder.

“You just gave my gas to that green Honda that’s pulling out right now.”

Carl Vance came out of the back office.

He tapped his clipboard against his leg.