92 miles and how we should win friends
We rolled in to the gas station in Springville, 22 of us, and filed inside to refuel. Half of us were standing in line to pay and two other customers — a guy buying gas and one with a couple of big fountain drinks — moved to the back of the line. And I’ve never seen this happen before (but surely it has somewhere): we all agreed to move them to the front. “Hey, let these guys go next.” At first they both declined, but we insisted. “No, y’all go ahead. We don’t have anywhere to be.” So they did. And thanked us. And I couldn’t help but wonder whether they’ll remember that gesture the next time they come up behind a cyclist on the road. Maybe they’ll think “weird outfit but not a bad person.” It ought to become a standard practice for big groups. We could always use more friends.
