Reporters Notebook (021608): "Bull & Gas"

As I was paying my bill at a local gas station on my way home from the newsroom Tuesday evening, a female colleague busted through the store’s door.
“SCOTTIE!” she exclaimed.
My colleague, from the Times advertising department, promptly paid for her gas, and then we exchanged a load of bull.
The conversation lasted for about 20 minutes, as we started a slow progression back to our vehicles, which were parked within the same gas stall.
We moved our conservation, ever so slowly, from the store lobby, toward the entrance sidewalk, out to the parking lot, and finally back to our vehicles.
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you,” I recall telling the lass. “We should chat more often.”
After exchanging friendly hugs, we separated toward our individual vehicles. My colleague opened up her door and inserted her keys into the ignition.
“Ummm, Nancy,” I said before she closed her door, “your gas cap isn’t fastened, and your gas door is wide open.”
Laughter ensued.
“Oh my golly,” Nancy said as she climbed back out of her vehicle. “I never pumped my gas!”
No bull.
— Scot Andrew Pitzer