A large regional grocery store chain owns convenience stores that have gas pumps. The chain has loyalty cards that allow you to get a few cents off at the pumps. And, if you buy other company gift cards at the grocery store, you get points for additional savings — up to a dollar a gallon for up to thirty-five gallons.

I often bought gift cards for restaurants where my wife and I regularly ate for the gas points and paid for the meals with the cards. I was saving quite a bit on gas.

The first time my wife and I both drove to our local [Convenience Store] to get gas, I pulled up on one side of the pump and she on the other side. I filled my truck with about twenty gallons and proceeded to insert the nozzle into her car.

A clerk came running out to the pump yelling at us.

Clerk: “You can only fill one vehicle with points!”

Me: “Where does it say that on the pumps, the marquee, or anywhere on the building?”

Clerk: “Well, that’s the rule. You can’t fill another vehicle at the same time.”

Me: “Unless you can show me where it says that, get out of my face.”

Clerk: “I will call the police.”

Me: “Do it.”

He went back inside. The police never came. We kept doing that same format until the grocery chain eventually sold off their convenience stores and the loyalty cards no longer worked.

It was good while it lasted.

In the 1950s, I worked very briefly one summer as a “pump jockey” filling cars at a service station.

On a very hot day, a woman pulled in, and as I started filling her tank, I could hear the engine ticking. As I started to move toward the hood to check the oil and water, I could feel the heat radiating.

I grabbed some water and a thick wad of rags to protect my hands. The engine was ticking away. She was telling me that she had driven straight through from Wichita (roughly 200 miles, or 320 kilometers) with a red warning light on the dashboard. I could tell that her radiator had boiled dry and would be hotter than blazes. The engine was probably completely seized by then.

I wasn’t going to touch anything that hot, so I started pouring water over the top of the radiator where it immediately turned to steam.

Customer: “Isn’t that supposed to go inside?”

I work at a petrol station overnight. Every evening around 2:00 am, this Middle Eastern guy in his late twenties comes by to get his petrol. He hardly speaks English and is always very polite. He also always buys three chocolate bars for £1 that are next to the registers.

After a week of this, he buys his three chocolate bars and then hands me one.

Me: “You’re giving it to me?”

Customer: “I always give chocolate to my friends.”

He then flashed a huge and wonderful smile and went on his way.

He buys a chocolate for me every day at 2:00 am and has done so for months. He’s a late-night delivery driver, and he doesn’t get a chance to speak to many English speakers outside of his deliveries, so I have been helping him with his English. I happily take my chocolate bar as payment.

I work in a gas station. A bunch of little kids are outside pooling money together near the gas pumps where I am working. The gas station also sells pizza. I overhear that they’re buying slices of pizza, and they all agree to just use a pocket knife and eat a third of a piece each.

One kid needs some sort of part for his bike he’s been saving for and only needs another $20. He offers to buy everyone a piece if they try and get their parents to let him mow their yards for the money he needs.

I go in and grab a bunch of pizza, and they come in just as I am putting on the counter.

Me: “I saw you all trying to share your money.”

I leave $20 on the counter for the kid’s bike.

Me: “You get to divide it up and get your bike fixed because you offered to use your savings.”

I’ve never seen a happier group of kids. Since then, I try a few times a month or so to do something nice for someone.

About thirteen years later, I have moved on, but I swing into the same gas station as a customer to grab snacks for myself and some friends heading to the zoo. The Internet is apparently down all over town, so credit cards aren’t working, and we have almost no cash. I am pretty bummed, but stuff happens.

As I am putting stuff away, a guy offers to just pay for it all. When I politely decline, he starts laughing.

Guy: “Dude, you’re the guy!”

Me: “I’m what?”

Guy: “You’re the guy that bought us all pizza!”

It was the bike kid from years ago. He paid for the snacks, got his own, and followed us to the zoo on his motorcycle. He has a motorcycle shop now and has a spot out back where he gets junk bicycles donated to clean up and give away. He swears he’ll never have a vehicle with four wheels.

I guess he got his bike fixed. And now he has a pretty good life running a motorcycle shop and fixing/donating other kid’s bikes!

My dad is a former Marine and raised me to always be respectful and grateful to the people who serve our country. I am twenty-three, and I have a slew of medical conditions that prevent me from serving in the military, so I am extra grateful to the people who serve.

I am at a gas station getting my morning coffee, and two girls about my age walk in wearing Army uniforms. They get their coffee and a few snacks and go to check out.

Me: *Stepping over to the register* “Whatever they are getting is on me.”

Army Girl #1: “Oh, ma’am, that’s okay.”

Army Girl #2: “Yeah, you don’t need to do that.”

Me: “Ladies, if I tried to apply to the military, I would get laughed out of the admissions office as soon as they saw my medical records. I can’t serve, so the least I can do is buy your coffee.”

They relent, thank me, take their things, and leave. I put my coffee on the counter to add to the total.

Cashier: “And your coffee is on me. No debate.”

I relent and pay for the total.

Cashier: “See you tomorrow!”