My boy and I are buying sodas at the Chevron station . . .
I notice they’ve got the place plastered with breast cancer donation stickers . . . donate a buck to breast cancer research and you can put your name on a 3×5 sticker with a pink car and a Chevron logo and they’ll stick it up on the wall.
I object to that. Let Chevron donate their own damn money instead of shaking down the customers.
“Would you like to donate a dollar to breast cancer research?” the attendant asks.
“No,” I reply. “Shouldn’t Chevron make their own donations? They’ve got more money than I do.”
It takes the guy a few moments to pick up on my theme, but as we’re wrapping up the transaction, he grabs the ball and runs with it.
“Yeah,” he says, “and the price of gas keeps going up.”
“It does, although I have to admit it’s down a little bit in the past week.”
“They bounce it,” he says, “but in the long run, it always goes up. It’ll be five dollars, then seven dollars. And they control everything so there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re exactly right,” I say to him.
When we get outside, I say to the boy, “Chevron should fire that guy. Not a good company man.”