Was getting gas yesterday and I filled up while my wife ran into the store. I do the credit card dance and then start pumping, and a boomer couple pulls up to the other side of the pump and the husband gets out to start gassing up. Not five second after this guy is out of his car I hear metal clattering around aggressively and then hear his wife (who sounds JUST like George's mom from Seinfeld) yell, "BILL! Damnit Bill! You're not supposed to be yanking on stuff with that arm! You're going to rip your [I assume pacemaker] lead out!" Bill ain't hearing it and bellows back, "GAWDAMIT, it's not my fucking fault! This fucking pump isn't working right!!" And then I can FEEL him pounding the shit out of the pump through the nozzle on my side.

Then the wife came around the truck and yelled at him, "JUST LET ME DO IT." as the husband wandered off muttering under his breath about mumble mumble perfectly capable mumble he didn't tell me not to use it mumble mumble tell ME what to do... As he sits his tantrum having ass in his own time-out in the passenger seat and slams the door shut.

At this point my wife comes back out of the store and I realize I've only pumped $10 the entire time I was pumping. I then realized there was INDEED something wrong with the pump, so of course I started screaming at my wife and pounding on... just kidding. I called it good enough for now and drove away, apologizing to my wife that she'd have to get gas again soon.

For some reason, I just can't fathom coming across a mild inconvenience in my life and within seconds deciding that the solution is to physically attack the MACHINE, let alone right after a medical procedure. But then, I guess I never ate paint chips. 🤷🏻‍♂️