Pumping gas in West Texas

This northerner was driving through West Texas. In the middle of nowhere he comes to a gas station by the side of the road, one unpainted dilapidated building. There is a sign reading “Next Gas 180 Miles”. There is nothing but barrenness in every direction. He pulls up and stops. An old geezer ambles out and starts pumping gas. A young boy, perhaps 10 years in age, peeks out shyly.

The northerner, wanting to be social, makes small conversation. The geezer volunteers the information that boy is his grandson. The northerner, casting about for a topic, nods to the sky where storm clouds are forming and says, “Looks like rain.”

The old geezer stops his pumping, looks up, sniffs the air, and says, “I hope so. Mind you, it’s not for me. It’s for the boy. I’ve seen rain.”