It's Wednesday.  That means, for the creature of habit that I am, it is bank and gas station day.

Today was no different.  Went to the bank, enjoyed a funny and brief chat with two of the tellers (about 13-year-old moody daughters, no less), divided my money up into budget areas (groceries, gasoline, allowance, etc.).  Drove to the gas station to get my weekly $20 worth of gas.  Didn't recognize the young fellow who approached me.  The conversation between the two of us was flabbergasting and frustrating.

Young Fellow (very sullen):  Whaddya want?
Middle-Aged Mom (very pleasant):  I'd like $20 worth of regular, please.
YF:  $20 of regular?
MAM:  Yes, please.

He hooked up the gas line and stood there at the pump near the back of the van.  Now, 99% of the time, whoever is pumping my gas cleans the windshield while we're waiting.  I assume it's part of their "full service" benefit.

MAM:  Excuse me...I'm wondering if you'll be washing the windshield today?  It could really use it.
YF:  Why would I do that?
MAM:  Oh, well, because that's what the other attendants do.  Is Butch here?  (note:  Butch is the middle-aged fellow who pumps my gas a lot of the time, and he always cleans the windshield)
YF: Nope.
MAM:  Oh, well, I was just wondering, because he always cleans the windshield.  I was thinking that you might do that, too.
YF:  I might, if you asked me.
MAM:  Sure.  Would you please clean the windshield while we're waiting?

Young fellow proceeded to clean the windshield (with attitude), then headed back to the pump.

YF:  Man!  Did you say you wanted $20?
MAM:  Yes, I did.  Just $20.  Why?

At this point, I glanced at the reading on the pump, and it said $31 and some cents.  Gulp. 

YF:  Look what you made me do!
MAM:  Uh, yeah, I see that it didn't stop at $20.  I'm so sorry.  Is the manager here?
YF:  Whaddya want him for?
MAM:  I thought I could talk to him about what just happened, so we could figure out what to do.
YF:  Well, what *are* you gonna do?  It's your fault -- you distracted me by asking me to clean your windshield.
MAM:  I'm not sure.  Can you go get the manager, please?
YF:  Never mind.  Forget it.  Go.
MAM:  But I'm sure we can resolve this mistake somehow.
YF:  Just go!

He was so sullen and disrespectful toward me, that I actually didn't feel safe sticking around.  Although I wanted to resolve the matter then and there, I did leave.  What he doesn't realize is that if he had been polite and apologetic to me,  I would have gladly paid the extra money for the gas, even though it was his mistake., and even though I would have to take it out of the grocery money.  I would have extended mercy.  

The whole experience left me with a sadness in my heart.  I know I need to go back to the gas station tomorrow to speak with the manager about what happened.  Best case scenario is that he will assure me it was not my fault and will not make me to pay the difference.  Worst case scenario is that he will assure me it was not my fault and will ask me to pay the extra money for the gas I erroneously received (which I don't mind doing -- it's not the gas station owner's fault, and I did receive product).  Either way, I will be able to stand before my heavenly Father and hear Him tell me, "Well done."

UPDATE:  I went to the gas station this morning and talked with the manager, who was shocked and sorry that I had been treated poorly, insisted I didn't have to pay the over-run, assured me that cleaning the windshield is standard procedure, and said that he would bring the matter to the owner's attention.  I, in turn, thanked him for the option of not having to pay the extra money, but I insisted, sharing that I was a Christian and I believed it was the right thing to do.   It always does boil down to "what would Jesus do?", and though I know I'm not perfect, I can sleep tonight knowing that my heavenly Father is pleased with my effort.