Org's Fuel Dump

A Look back

This was a time of customer service. There was no such thing as self checkout, self service, no press one for English or leave your message after a long, minute wasting message designed to run up your phone bill. No drive thru’s but we did have drive in’s. We had waitress’ on roller skates and phone booths everywhere. There was not a CVS on every corner nor Walgreens just there. We had Rexall and they had soda fountains. Everyone working around the area would visit for a grilled hard roll and coffee and it did not cost six dollars. Refills were free.

The place was called Bishops Corners and just west of Hartford. It was a great place that did not require a visit to the big city. There were four corners and three were occupied by service stations. There was a Mobil owned by Tommy Troy. Diagonally was an American owned by Ernie. Just across was Dick Evans , Bishops Corner Shell. This is where I and my friends worked. We called it Orgs’ fuel dump. The Mobil was clearly the busiest with our place the next in line and the American a distant third. This Shell , was actually the best producer in the northeast.

We had quite a different atmosphere than anywhere today. We pumped the gas, washed the windshield and mirrors, checked the tires for pressure and got under every hood. Dick paid us a commission on all island sales and man did we sell. Fan belts, oil, antifreeze, tires, tune-ups and anything else we could find wrong in the three or four minutes we had with that customer. As a matter of fact we called them by name and made them feel welcome. If we did not know their name we got it off the credit cards and requested they have a great day and make sure you come back again. We also had multiple customers at once. Sometimes as many as four all at the same time. It took a great deal of energy and drive. No trouble for a motivated seventeen year old.

There were months that we actually earned a thousand dollars in sales and there was always the bonus for top sales. Late October would come and it would be time to sell snow tires. Well we also had to sell the steel spikes to be inserted for traction. We made a great deal of money in these months. This was a four bay station and always full of cars, while the two islands never empty.

The Rexall was just a hop over the fence and the Society for Savings just next door . This is where I would meet my wife. At least my wife for a time. She was a big breasted blonde and had a flirting way. If she did not, I guess I would never have been with her. She drove a yellow Volkswagon convertible bug and called it Patrick.  There were no atm’s and every transaction took a person and interaction. They knew your name, kind of like Cheers.

The final corner held many stores and shops. There was a Lord and Taylor , Friendly’s , some custom clothiers. Pig , we called him that, real name Bob, was always short of cash and dad made sure of that. He would come to Org’s and be looking for gas that he had no money for . His solution was that he would take us to the clothes store and charge anything we wanted in return for fuel. Dad gave him a charge at the store and I am sure he was not pleased. This is when Friendly’s had square burgers served on a grilled cheese and the Fribble as well as the Awful Awful. Man those were the days!

I was happy to be motivated by my employers and have contact with people at every turn. Conversations to be had and personal interaction with all types of people.

There was an assumption that the customer was always right and we made sure to make things right. There was no hiding behind voicemail, emails or overseas connections that constantly apologize but never solve anything. We respected our elders and listened to what they said.

Honest to God, I miss those days!