A few years back, I posted about buying gas for the last time. It turns out the EV charging station I use most often is at a gas station.
That’s where I do some of my most relaxed reading. There’s something special about reading at a charging station. I have few choices how to spend that time. I could take walks, but charging stations most often are located at car dealerships and in parking lots. The one at a gas station in Elephant Butte is definitely not a scenic place for a walk. So, I put the sun shades in my windshield, and I pull a book from the stash on the floor of my passenger seat. There is nothing else demanding of my time, nothing else to do. It’s a little retreat, a little vacation.
People sometimes come up to me and ask, “How long does it take to charge that thing?” I answer that I only have to charge a couple of times a month, but it does take longer than buying gas. They say, “Oh, I wouldn’t be able to stand that.” They don’t grasp how much I enjoy having twenty or thirty minutes committed to nothing but reading.
I have a whole collection of charging station reads. Obscure New Mexico history books happen to be my favorite. I’m currently reading the memoir of a woman who married a cowboy when she had never ridden a horse or lived on a ranch before. She tells how she learned to be a cowgirl. Every chapter is another anecdote of ranch life back in the 40s and 50s on a place that didn’t even have electricity. What would the author think, to know I’m reading her life story while I plug in my car?
The only distraction is people-watching, a writer’s favorite hobby aside from reading. A gas station is still good place for that, even if I’m not buying gas,
Amber Foxx Mysteries 