Men around here really like helping damsels in distress, especially at gas stations. Maybe it's that gallantry we Southerns are supposed to have in spades, but it sure is weird to have had no fewers than two different guys come up at various stages of the process of me putting fresh oil in my car at the gastation. One guy (in his thirties, at the youngest) nearly went in to get me a paper funnel until his mother yelled at him to get back in the car. This is certainly better than when a guy pulled up his truck to the pump I was using just so he could inquire about how much interest I had in going to his lakehouse, which assuredly implied a great deal of gittin me dun, though.
Nice to know people are still willing to help a gal out, but I'm very glad I am capable of checking the oil myself.
