Filling station flowers... You have seen them wrapped in purple paper neatly arrayed in stepped, almost elegant displays near the entrance. You have walked past them dozens of times to pick up a pack of gum, two scratch off lottery tickets, a cellophane bag of pork rinds, twin fried, glazed apple pies in wax paper wrappers, cheap cigars in plastic tubes, a twelve pack of imported beer and bottles of a nationally advertised sports beverage. You have probably asked yourself the same question I have asked untallied times, "Christ, what kind of loser buys flowers at the filling station?" After a brief scientific survey, with a five percent margin of error, I answered this probing question. Losers with sharp, careless tongues buy filling station flowers. Losers just like me.