...so I gets to the petrol station and

[droves]

I can't remember what side the flap is on.

Pull the car over to one side ,whilst I get out and check , find the flap and drive to a petrol pump .

Only to get out and start filling for the damn thing to stop at £ 2.73 worth of fuel. Get back in car drive round to next free pump and start filling again. Go to check out and find the staff pissing themselves with laughter .

Pay for fuel , look round only to find person who is known to me also pissing themselves with laughter .

Wanting the ground to open up and swallow me by then , I get back into the car and stall it 6 times in a row. Yes , you did read that correctly , Six Times !.

Anyone know where I could buy a bus pass near Edinburgh ?

Oh you poor thing, now that's what I call having a bad day!

Next time you forget, look at your petrol gauge. There's an arrow on it/near it that will point to the cap.

oh don't beat yourself up :o

I was queuing at a bp garage and noticed their diesel pumps were free so drove over, parked and got the nozzle out and realise it obviously wouldn't fit in my hole and then noticed everyone smirking and pointing and laughing from their cars

so i drove off

The hose will reach around to the other side, saves queueing.

Fio , that's the worst of it isn't it ? Everyone laughing .

I've also went to fill the wrong side of the car .

And had a flat ,tried to fill it up with air only to discover the machine had changed from 20p to 50p ...and I had no 50ps ...there was another car waiting and I asked him if he had 50p and offered £1 .You would have thought I'd have offered him Ebola virus by the dirty look he gave. ( about 6 weeks ago) .

I'm not having much luck with cars .

I once stood efficiently filling my car up with the pump from the far side of the car and studiously avoiding the pointing fingers and raised eyebrows of several other drivers.

After they'd driven away I relaxed my stern avoidance gaze to discover they'd been helpfully trying to point out the puddle of petrol forming aaround my feet...

Bloody hate petrol stations, probably because I once started to fill up the car and suddenly started having a nosebleed. People staring at me like I'm the most disgusting thing on earth. Then I get in car to clean up as best I can and retrieve purse. No purse. I go in to explain, still a bit bloody and say I will call DH to bring purse. Return to car. No fucking phone. Return to shop. Ask if I can use their phone. Phone DH. Leave slight bloody mark on phone handset. Apologise. Return to car, hang head in shame.

Even if you do manage to fill up without incident , other people growl at you .

It's like they're angry at having to wait for fuel . In a que , full of other growlers.

And they're always so busy.

Have decided to go for fuel at 3 am from now on.

...or mabey not , will be full of taxi drivers and truck drivers then .

One time my car was in the garage so I borrowed DHs - forgetting the petrol cap is on the other side of his to mines, then had to reverse back and go to the other side of the pumps (old ones, didn't stretch) and in the flap of doing this managed to kerb the car on the metal edging at the pumps, shredding his tyre.

Which went down with a "pfffft" noise like a cartoon.

Moved car to the side (risking his alloys) and phoned him, he had to walk to the other end of town carrying the jack, which of course wasn't in the car, to change to his spare, and it cost me an extra £100 for a new tyre.

Plus I wasn't very popular for a few days.

When I was pregnant with ds1 I was lavishly sick across a petrol station forecourt. made dh fill the car up ever since.

When I got my first car, in my mid 20s, I didn't know what kind of fuel had to go in it, and I had to ask the man in the shop.

If I had just opened the damn flap, it was written on there (of course).

I went to fill up the other day, and there was a nice man in a high vis jacket who offered to do it for me! I assume he was employed by the garage and not some sort of petrol-pump-fetishist. Anyway, I took him up on his offer and was pleased to see that he couldn't get the bloody cap off either.

I live in fear of putting the wrong sort of juice in, as we have two cars, one of each. It's only a matter of time....

Once I stalled my car at least 6 times waiting in a queue of traffic going up a hill. When I finally got it to start, my legs were shaking, like I was doing a flamenco dance.

I just laughed so much at Handmade that I trumped by accident

I shouted at a maniac man driver once & couldnt drive away, my legs were shaking like that!