When I was a kid, I believed in the American dream. That I could one day be all I ever wanted to be in this flourishing economy. I’d work hard until I had the perfect house, perfect family, and perfect car. But it seems that this image has been forgotten by the big oil companies. And now that gas prices are projected to hit three dollars a gallon, all i’m hoping for is for it to fucking taste better.
Every morning, as I stop by the gas station to fill up my tank with sweet, hydrocarbon nectar, I find myself stressing about the questions a working class man like myself must face. Will I be able to afford gas in 20 years? Do I need to take a second job? Will this stuff ever be a little less bitter?
Nothing is more embarrassing then when I have to borrow money from my girlfriend to pay for a few gallons. That disapproving look she gives me as I stick the gasoline nozzle in my mouth for a quick afternoon pick-up burns a hole in my ego, and that overpriced, methanol-y taste burns a hole in my throat.
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My father and my father before him grew up on leaded gas. I remember my first sip with him, hiding from employees at ExxonMobil as I suckled on his jerrycan, promising not to tell mom. Now I’m wondering if I’ll get to have that moment with my child, and if I do, it’ll be with the New Coke of fossil fuels. Is this what you wanted, Uncle Sam?
The big corporations push diesel on you because they claim it’s a better alternative, but in fact, it tastes even worse. They only push this propaganda on us because they care about making money off of the little guy, not bringing us the best-tasting petroleum they possibly can. If I’m going to siphon out some drank, especially at three fucking dollars, well, it better taste a little less like benzene, and a little more like economic prosperity.