On a small street, in a small town, two small gas stations sat across the road from each other. The fancy lights and utter convenience of the big city stations were far from there; here only was the dire need for a car's fuel, coffee in the morning, hot dogs at noon, and slushies for the kids at night. The fuel prices were controlled not by the electronic signs that you might see these days, but cards with numbers on them. Whenever the prices would change, each gas station's building would release a man to climb on the ladder and make the numbers correct