David Goodwin (2)

I worked part time in a servo (gas station for US readers) during my last year or so of high school. I got the job because I spent hours there after school and on the weekend hanging out with my boyfriend (now husband) who worked there part time while he was at university. It was the very early 90’s, and it was still an actual service station in that we were supposed to offer to fill the tank, check the oil, and clean the windscreen of our customers when there was two of us on shift. In show more practice we only did this for patrons of a certain age and/or socioeconomic bracket, or those that insisted. We were busy, being on a main road, but we were also one of several a few hundred meters apart in a fairly affluent suburb, and though we had an on-site mechanic and a car wash, our shop was small offering little more than the basics - cold drinks, ice creams, cigarettes, newspapers and snacks. That’s not to say we didn’t attract drama. As in any retail job, customers ranged from the indifferent, to the weird, to the hostile. There was a popular pub and drive thru across the road and we had more than one drunk stumble in, especially on the weekends when we were open until midnight. The occasional brawl broke out on the forecourt, a handful of drive-offs, and there was at least one attempted hold up (not on my shift thankfully). Most memorably for me, during a petrol shortage with cars queuing down the street, anger and desperation resulted in a man becoming pinned between two cars at the bowser, that was a hell of a day.

All this is to say that David Goodwin’s memoir, Servo, sent me wandering down memory lane. My experience wasn’t near as fraught as his own, it certainly didn’t trigger an existential crisis, a drawn out drug binge, or stomach ulcers, but there was a lot about his job I could personally relate to. Anyone with retail experience however will likely be familiar with many of the situations David finds himself in.

I found myself nodding in recognition as Goodwin described the mundane routines of his job, and I often laughed out loud at the idiosyncrasies of his colleagues and customers. The sheer lunacy of the ‘gumbleton’s’ David regularly encounters is quite something, but I believed every word. People are strange, especially those that wander into servo’s in the small hours.

Servo is also in part the story of David’s coming-of-age from a shy, sheltered young adult to someone more confident and streetwise. The job took its toll both physically and mentally on him however, and he confesses the ways in which he tried to cope with its stresses.

The writing is articulate and animated, and Goodwin relates his experience in a personable, confiding tone. His descriptions, especially of the people he encounters, are vivid and memorable.

Told with humour, pathos and candour, I found Servo to be a highly entertaining read. Remember to offer the console operator a friendly smile next time you pay for your petrol. show less

A refreshing piece of modern Australian Fiction that is not full of either PC themes or self-absorbed narcissistic introspections. A great insight into how the "other half" live their lives in the outer suburbs from the perspective of a late night shift service station attendant. Very humorous storytelling in what is really a collection of short stories held together by the narrator's journey through their retail career. Also shows the toll that those in retail/hospitality suffer on the show more receiving end of both KPI driven businesses at one ned and the more demanding and difficult consumer on the other - another sad indictment on modern society. show less