Gas Pump
Jenya and I journeyed around New Zealand for a couple weeks in a van retrofitted to contain a bunk with room for two. This was an incredibly easy and flexible way to explore to islands, and it seemed the highway mostly contained similar vehicles from multiple outfitters.
At one fuel stop we took the opportunity to inventory our foodstuffs and ice supply in the cooler. While I gassed up and cleaned the windshields Jenya opened the rear hatch, unpacked everything, and took stock of our supply situation.
Meanwhile, another camper van pulled up at the next pump. Two young women got out. They spoke to each other in German. I though nothing of them until I saw one fighting with the pump nozzle. She yanked it out of their van and gas was still flowing out and onto the ground. Jesus.
Clearly confused and panicked she wasn't sure what to do. Her best split second decision was to spin around as fast as humanly possible and put the nozzle back into the pump holster. But here's the thing - she not only spun in our direction, but also inexplicably aimed as high as possible.
She missed me but poor Jenya, who was facing away this whole time and completely unaware, got sprayed. As did all our food. And the inside of our cooler. And some of the exposed interior of our van, including the edge of our bunk. Jenya said, "woo!" in a playful tone as if she just got spritzed with cold water but I then said, "honey, you just got nailed with gasoline."
Jenya went to deal with her clothes in the station bathroom. I stood there in anger before dealing with the mess. "Did we get you?" one of the Germans asked.
"Yes, you GOT us!" I snapped back.
"It is not my fault - the pump would not stop," she whined with her infuriating blameless defense.
"But you aimed IT RIGHT AT US!" I yelled.
I was seeing red and couldn't engage with them anymore. They never apologized. They never offered to help. They just left the nozzle, no longer spewing gas, on the ground, and fled the scene.
We spent the next hour cleaning up best we could. The station attendant helped us out once she realized what happened. Ultimately Jenya's clothes were ruined, we lost about $70 worth of food, and the van stank of gas for a day or so.
Back on the road we made it to the next big town to get lunch and figure out our updated schedule since we got derailed a bit. Given the few towns and highways it was no surprise that we saw the offending Germans' van parked in a nearby lot. Ever fiber of my being wanted to jab my knife into all their tires. Jenya talked me down. The rest of the vacation was much better.