The six thousand-gallon tanker truck swung wide to make a left turn into the GasMan independent filling station in Jefferson Park. Ronny, the driver, deftly maneuvered the huge truck past a palm tree and a parked car and rolled to a stop at the access portal for the station’s underground fuel storage tanks. GasMan was the first stop on his daily rounds delivering gasoline to retail outlets in this part of L.A. Today he was carrying unleaded, 87 octane, summer blend.
The phrase “summer blend” made him laugh, as if the gas were some kind of specialty brew from Starbucks. Most motorists didn’t know that the gas they bought between June 1st and September 15th had a different formula from the normal stuff. In the heat of summer, the volatile components of gasoline boil off more easily and pollute the air. To reduce summertime smog, Los Angeles oil refineries change the gasoline they produce to a low-evaporation blend.
Moving with limber grace from long experience, Ronny swung down from the cab and released the gasoline hose from its secured position on the truck. He dragged the hose to the fill port and lifted the small, heavy lid. After confirming the spill bucket inside the port was empty, Ronny hooked up the hose and started to pump gas into the underground tank.
While he waited, Ronny kept an eye out for the station’s owner, fervently hoping the guy wasn’t there. The owner had gone ape-shit when he was accused of selling tainted gasoline. He blamed the distributor, but tests of the fuel in the underground storage tank got everyone off the hook: nothing wrong with the gas. Ronny expected there would be lawsuits anyway, so the owner was on edge. This was Ronny’s first visit to replenish the station since the news broke, and he didn’t want to be the person the guy vented on.
A flashing red light on the side of the building caught his eye.
The overfill alarm. That can’t be right.
Sticking to protocol, he immediately cut off the flow of gas into the tank. The overfill alarm was designed to prevent spills, and it was triggered when the underground tank was 90% full. Ronny knew the GasMan storage tank had a capacity of six thousand gallons. He checked his instruments: only about two thousand had gone in. Normally, he delivered over five thousand gallons of 87 octane to GasMan.
Must be the bad press, he thought. If customers were avoiding the station, that would explain why less gas had been sold.
Leaving with an extra three thousand gallons in his truck was a pain in his ass. Retains, as such incidents were called in the business, cost money. Rather than haul the gas back to the refinery, he’d try to top off some of his other customers in the area. But before he did that, he wanted to verify that the GasMan tank really was full. He didn’t have a lot of faith in electronic monitoring systems, so he fetched a bit of old-fashioned technology from his truck: a gauge stick.
When unfolded, the gauge stick was twelve feet long. Ronny lowered it through the port and dipped it into the gas. The overfill alarm was right; the tank was nearly full. He refolded the stick and kept it handy because he’d be using it at the stations he visited next. Then he sealed the access port, packed up the gas hose, and wheeled his tanker truck back on the road.