Filling Your Gas Tank AND Your Confidence Tank!

During my graduation internship, I sometimes helped out with tasks that didn’t directly relate to my assignment. One of these tasks was to deliver a completed machine to a client with the little truck the company had.

I had done this once before so I felt comfortable driving it. Near the delivery point, which was about ninety minutes away from the company, the warning light came on that I had to refuel. I was a bit worried since I had not done that before and wondered how different it would be.

Stopping at a pump, I was anxious but still wanted to try and figure it out myself first.

I must have been there for at least ten minutes, circling the little truck, getting increasingly more anxious. I found a small tank, but it seemed way too small and didn’t have that gasoline smell.

There was another bigger tank under the truck bed, but it didn’t have a cap I could screw off; instead, it had a slot for a key. In my mind, this meant it could be dangerous and I could mess up something very badly if I tried to open it without being 100% sure it was what I thought it was.

I was starting to feel more self-conscious about not being able to do this, so I decided to call my internship supervisor for help. They were only able to tell me that the gas tank was on the right side. In hindsight, I could kick myself for not inquiring further since both of my options were on the right side.

I was thinking that potentially I could head into the gas station and ask for help from one of the employees, though this brought on the all too familiar “I don’t wanna be a bother” thoughts.

Time kept on slipping away before I had to bully myself into going into the gas station to ask for help.

I still can barely believe how helpful those employees were, going out of their way and helping me even though they weren’t required to. This very nice employee followed me back out to the little truck and repeated some of the steps I did to determine that the little tank probably wasn’t what I was looking for. He convinced me reassuringly to try and open the bigger tank with one of the keys I had on the keyring. Getting it off, it did have that distinctive smell.

The employee gave me a bit more advice on how I could determine these things in the future and to not worry so much about not knowing it perfectly. He inquired whether I needed any help with actually refueling, but I assured him I could do that.

A little later, coming down from this spike of anxiety, I paid for the gasoline, thanked the employees as wholeheartedly as I could, and went on my way.

I’m extremely thankful for their help, and I am confident that, should I be in a similar situation, I can think back on this event and be able to ask for help more easily.