As i opened my window and turned off my engine on a hot & suffocating summer night, waiting for the fuel station worked to bestow upon me his divided attention and fill my car tank with gasoline, i began to lose my patience.
You see the man is over worked. There are a LOT of cars. LOTS of women inside. All of them (ok us) park and open our windows and wait. Of course i began to sweat and hate my life. and of course the man took forever to come fill my tank. and of course it took for ever to actually fill the tank. then it took forever for the man to come back and remove the thing from the tank and let me pay him. He is human after all. and by the time i took off i was in the worse mood ever.
Why did i have to wait for him. Why couldn’t i get out of my throne of a car, head to the machine, pick up the thingy (shesmah?) and fill my own tank? How hard is it? Are my hands going to be soiled? I don’t think so. Am i going to chip a nail? I don’t really care. Is it so heavy it’s going to hurt my back lifting it? Doesn’t look like it. Am i not supposed to walk in piece the land where no female shall walk? I am walking every where else why can’t i walk there? Why…
3aib? Min yegool 3aib? ana ba9eb banzeen mo baroo7 disco! Who said it was 3aib? Why can’t i fill my own tank? What would happen if i filled my own tank tell me? People would stare? they stare all the time so what’s new? Nothing would happen except the fact that the line at the fuel station would move faster. I am not saying all women should… kil wa7ed 7or… but i would like it very much if i had the option to actually choose to fill my own car’s tank if i had to.
and you know what? The next time i am not going to wait.
Would you fill your own tank with fuel? What would you say/do if you saw a woman filling her car’s tank with fuel?