Speedy’s Lost Art

When I was a kid in the 1970s, customer service was still taught, revered and valued. When my parents pulled into a gas station, my dad would manually roll down the window of our blue Ford station wagon and the attendant would ask “What’ll it be for you?” and my dad would say “Fill it up. Unleaded” because some gas still had lead in it back then.

There was one guy in particular at the Exxon Mobile at East Great Plains that took it to a new level. We called him “Speedy” and he inspired me when I was 7 years old. Speedy was a throw back to the 50s when full service gas stations were full service service stations. Speedy was one of a kind and he did his thing passionately as others stood around or simply went through the motions passionless. I’m not sure if he knew it, but we absorbed everything as we timed him and recognized all of the tell tale sounds by heart. He lifted the nozzle. Raised the old lever up. Opened the door. Unscrewed the gas cap. Pushed the nozzle in. And pulled the lever. I think a bell still dinged on the gas pumps back then. They certainly weren’t digital and still had the numerical dials that physically rolled as the gas went in. None of the gas pumps had screens or credit card slots back then. The times were much simpler and everyone paid cash. Credit cards weren’t really a thing back then. Customers were still seen as customers and people, and not just transactions. That was Speedy’s epiphany and differentiator.

But his real performance happened once Speedy lodged the gas nozzle in the car. He’d half ask / half tell my dad to “Pop the Hood” and we’d watch intently as he pulled out the oil dipstick, wiped it with an oily rag from his back pocket, stuck it back in and then reported with a strong New England accent “Yure bout a quart low there, Chief! What cha got in there, 10 double ya 30?”

My dad would reply and wave giving the go ahead to add a quart and then say “Quakaaaa State”. Speedy would grab a quart from the display between the pumps and we could hear it glugging.

As it was glugging, Speedy was off checking the air in the tires. Unscrewing the caps with lightning speed, and the bell on the air pump would ding if one was low and stop singing once it reached the right pressure.

After a few circles around the car, he went back to the hood, threw the oil can away into an over flowing garbage can, and lowered the hood with a little slam. This was before plastic when oil still came in cans that you opened with a triangular can opener or jammed a nozzle in the tin seal.

As the gas was finishing pumping, he’d grab the windshield washer thing from the blue wash juice and scrub the windshield. We didn’t know why but he’d flick the fluid from the wand before using the squeegee to methodically go top to bottom making sure every window was spic and span and crystal clear. Sometimes he would even dry the windows, and then my dad would pay in cash and we’d be on our merry way. I can still see the change dispenser on his belt. That was back when people still used cents.

I remember Speedy 45 years later because he was memorable, thorough, took pride in his work, and strived to provide the best customer service imaginable. He was such a rock star that we revered. We didn’t go to that gas station just for gas. We went there for Speedy. My brother and I referred to Speedy as if he were a super hero and we emulated him. We “checked the oil” and “cleaned the windows” on our Big Wheels, and have applied many of the lessons Speedy taught us all throughout life.

Speedy understood that some people just buy gas, but some buy and appreciate the service. I love that he clearly asked himself “What can I do differently to bring value to my customers?”

He is the only gas station attendant I remember, and I can see his face like it was yesterday. Smiling through the window and waving as he cleared away the blue fluid with the squeegee.

You really can’t beat good old fashioned service with a smile

Side note: We noticed Speedy because we were encouraged to ask “Who are the people in your neighborhood?” So who are the people in your neighborhood, and who is looking at you seeking their inspiration? Life is always more than a transaction. ;)