Petrol in Camberwell

I was strolling across the carpark in Camberwell today when a young lady in distress came up to me. She told me that her car had been syphoned for its petrol and she needed a hand. She was vague but apologetic.

The facts seemed to be that she had come across from Brunswick West to visit a friend, thought she had half a tank, but when returning from the shops found that the car would not start. She had asked others for help but had not had much help. Of course this is Camberwell:  whitebread aussies with loads of loot, so pretty much what you’d expect. She’d have been better to break down in Brunswick West.

Actually to tell you the truth I doubted her story, but thought I’d walk her to the petrol station, borrow a jerry can, give her $5 of petrol, have a chat to a stranger and no harm done really.

Did you know the Safeway Petrol station at Camberwell does not lend jerry cans?! I had to buy one: A $13 jerry can, and $5 worth of petrol. Not that I was counting. The service station attendant was a cool guy and very apologetic so I cursed the evil Woolies empire under my breath. They’re making millions. People complain about the lack of community today and organisations like Woolworths make petty decisions which allow them to profit at others misfortune. Great business leadership guys!

So ranting and raving (in my head only) I walked the lovely lady back to her car. I found out she was a student. Her car confirmed this: a bombed out Astra, like the one I used to own when I was student, although I didn’t tell her this. I’m surprised to see a guy sitting in the driver’s seat reading a book!  This guy was <em>reading</em> a book while his girl – or friend – was out begging for petrol. What a lazy arsehole!

I left and wandered off trying not to feel too smug about helping someone out. She had asked for my details so she could pay me back. I had mumbled something about helping the next person if she could.

I walked to the bottle shop to find a nice wine and some whisky. I just had to tell someone my story so I barked out my disillusionment with Safeway petrol station policy, and Woolies in general, to the checkout guy. (Checkout people have to listen that’s why they are so great!). But then, as I pick up my liquor to walk away, I realise I’ve just spent $50 at the new Dan Murphy store, owned by the same “evil empire” I had just been “going off” at.

F***ed either way!

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