The service station was empty of customers when he called in for fuel.
He had a long drive ahead of him and despite the run down look of the place, he couldn’t afford to be picky. He filled up and went in. The old man at the counter was tinkering with his phone. He didn’t look up when he approached. The machine sat on the counter, so he inserted his card. The old man kept tapping at his mobile. When asked for a receipt, the man tapped a button and it rolled out, still not looking at his customer. The card was removed and returned to his wallet. He stood looking at the old man for a minute, feeling completely invisible. He was totally unaccustomed to such a gross level of rudeness.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for the fuel,” he said, “I have a long journey in front of me and I’d hate to run out.”
The old man grunted, again without looking away from his phone.
He stood thinking for a while. He felt anger welling up inside. This was becoming intolerable. He was a respectable member of the public, and a professional man. This sort of behaviour needed a good jolt. He said, “I’m letting you know I’m using the toilet out the back, before I move on.”
Nothing.
“Well, yes, thank you. I’ll drive safely, shall I?”
No response.
“Come again, shall I?”
Silence.
“Well then, nice chatting with you, bye”.
With that, he went around to the gents’ toilet and looked it over. He found a gas bottle and carried it back into the toilet.
Being a highly-paid combustion engineer for a major gas company, he knew exactly what he was about. In the cubicle, he sat it on the lid of the toilet bowl and cracked the valve open, just enough to allow a low hiss and a steady build-up of gas in the cubicle. In the wash basin, at the far end of the room, he screwed up a number of paper towels very tightly, to produce a slow burning wick. He lit it. He checked the time. He estimated that it would only be a matter of minutes.
He got into his car and drove back the way he had come for a few metres, turned around, then parked on the side of the road. He was at a safe distance. He switched off and sat waiting. He was quite sure the old man didn’t actually own the petrol station, but he felt sure he’d get into one hell of a lot of trouble.
Several minutes passed before the explosion. When it came, the ground shook and a great orange ball went up. He started his car and drove slowly past. There was a face at the front window.
He found it gratifying that the old man was actually looking at him!