All hands to the pump: misinterpreting signals......

My early-morning relationship with the nice man at the petrol station is a long-standing,  and for me, quite profitable one. Bonus coffees and free top-ups and a daily offer of a cheap iced ring to go with it, have formed a bond of sorts over the years where I always look pleased to see him and he looks pleased to see me. Yesterday my car went in for its MOT and my wife changed the CD to an ABBA compilation, which I happily listened along to as it made a change from the usual financial doom and gloom I put myself through from Radio 5. The petrol pump wasn't working so a friendly wave and a 'hello my friend - you want a donut with your coffee?' over the tannoy sorted the problem. What I hadn't realised was that he could hear the car's audio still going in the background...when I went in to pay he smiled and said that that particular tune was his favourite ABBA song.......Gimme Gimme Gimme A Man After Midnight........I think I may unwittingly have just got to second base......