I'm in a Fight with Holiday Oil

We're all moved to the new house. We rented a truck of unusual size (some call them U-Haul but I call them TOUS) on Saturday and put almost everything we own into it. We then drove to our new house. We had several good friends come help us out and our new neighbor even saw us unloading and came over to help. Everything seemed like it was going very well, we had had a very successful moving day. But that was before my nemesis entered my life.

You see, I didn't know that the Holiday gas station was my nemesis. I thought we were friends. We've had a great relationship for quite some time. I give the station money, they give me gas, everybody is happy. (When I said "they give me gas" I was reminded of an incident on our recent road trip. I got up earlier then everyone else and went to pick up breakfast and fill up the car. When I came back I told Robyn, "We have breakfast and we're full of gas." She thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. I didn't even realize I was saying something funny.)

So I went to what I thought was a friendly gas station. I was pulling in and I pulled in just like I normally do. Unfortunately, my truck was about 26 feet longer than I was used to driving. It turns out you can't turn as sharp in a truck of such immense proportions.

This yellow pole of devilry snuck up on me and the side of the truck ran right into it.

I tried to back the truck up to get off it, but the truck put just enough pressure on the pole that I couldn't get any traction on the wheels.  I ended up having to call a tow truck. When he came, he lifted up the back end of the truck and just pushed it several feet over. It was really cool to watch.

In the end, I was able to drive away safely and I was glad I bought the insurance on the truck rental. Naturally, I drove to another station to buy gas. Because, I'm in a fight with the Holiday station.