My father lent his car to me,
My driving skills brand-new,
To take a weekend trip with friends,
Which I was shocked he’d do.
We went upstate and stopped for gas
Where we were most surprised
To find the pumps for serve-yourself
Were cleverly devised.
We laughed and posed for pictures
At this novel fill-up way.
Though that was fifty years ago,
I thought of it today.
At Michael’s crafting store with not
A cashier to be found,
I used the self-check kiosks,
Noting how things come around.
What once was such a novelty’s
Become the way things are.
In future years there also won’t be
Gas for any car.
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