It was wet, it was cold, it was miserable, and all I wanted to do was to fill my bike with petrol on the way home. I called in to the BP service station on Ferntree Gully road, the same as I’d done any number of times in the past. Pulled up to the pump and put the nozzle in the tank, waiting for the pump to be switched on… and waited… and waited…
Eventually the attendant walked up from his counter to the door and stood there and shouted at me that I had to get off the bike. I asked why. “It’s the law” he shouted. I asked what law. “It’s the law, in case you spill petrol on yourself, catch fire and sue us,” he shouted. I asked what law. He told me it was “the law” and to get off the bike.
I told him to get stuffed, put the keys back in the ignition, and rode off to the next nearest servo, where not only was the petrol 2c a litre cheaper, where I could be served sitting on the bike the same as for the last sixteen years, but where I could have a friendly chat with the owner.
Congratulations BP, that’s one less customer.
