A lot of my misspent youth was spent at the old gas station next door washing windows, checking oil and pestering the old men who worked there. I’m sure it went a long way to developing my continuing love of cars.
The coke machines were at the gas stations. It’s where I learned how slugs worked.
My buddy told me that a bunch of them would go to the gas station at night. They couldn’t get the bottles out but they did manage to pry off the caps. Then they would take turns on the straw....Those west side boys were a bit slow. My bro and I had slugs. Life was Brain vs Brawn.