The idea of filling up the scooter was timely. The gauge was approaching empty. The station was on the way to where I was going. There were multiple pumps waiting for me. With my mind in neutral, I rode in and put the Fino on the stand, going through the process without thinking.
In my defense to what followed, the signs detailing the pump and what was available are subtle. Yes, there is a sign as one approaching the pump detailing what is available, but “every pump is the same” means that one does not pay attention! Yes, the handles are color coded, but can you name the colors associated with each type of fuel? Yes, there is markings to one side of each handle, but if the sign is on the right and one is standing on the left, can you see them?
As one might expect, the fact that I have expounded on my defense is an admission that I have no defense.
I pulled up, open the tank, and blissfully filled the tank with diesel.
“By any chance, did you filled the Fino with diesel.”
“No, of course not!”
“Are you sure?”
I was but I checked anyway. It seems that I innocently but absolutely had filled the tank with diesel. Before I could say much, the manager, station attendants, and others were telling me what I could and should do.
A few hours later, siphon pump in hand, emptied twice tank now refilled with premium, the Fino was ready to start. With big smiles (dare I admit laughter) on the part of everyone around me at the station, I rode off in the knowledge that answers had come even though I did not ask. It was as if my soul knew that “every time I’m in trouble I call on you, confident that you’ll answer” (Psalm 86.7) even before I ask.
My bail then and now has been paid. It will be awhile before the reminders will stop. The great news is that each takes me to someone always on my side.
