Funny story about the gas lines. I graduated from high school in 1972 and lived in the Seattle area. I don’t remember the gas lines. It was just a news story for me. But the reason:
I worked as a janitor for the car repair shop and gas station at J.C. Penney’s at Southcenter and got off work at the same time the place opened for business. I would park my Vega GT at the pump, and then fill up before I went home.
At the time, I didn’t really think about how much grief I was saving myself. It was just how I got gas. The result is that I never lived the lines. It was something that happened to “everybody else”. On a side note, my wife is still amazed that the Vietnam war did not affect me or anyone in my family or circle of friends. Must be a weird “parallel dimension” thing.
2 or 3 times a week, I'd get up at 3:30 to get in a gas line....the only saving grace was the sadistic laughing bastard in the little "pay me" house at the exit - without fail he'd screw up when making change. Sometimes I'd get more back than the bill I'd handed him --- did I feel guilty, or did I correct him? NFW; not in the mood after crawling through his two hour line.