Writes Tim in Jacksonville, Florida: “Apparently people on the Westside don’t process instructions very well.”

An alternative explanation: People at the Westside Winn-Dixie don’t utilize bold type very well.

related: Pain at the pump

“While stopping for our millionth potty break,” a road-tripping Rachel from Atlanta pondered the circumstances that could have inspired this intolerable discombobulation at a Tennessee gas station. “I don’t know what happened,” she says, “but that’s a hell of a lot of exclamation marks!!!”

p.s. dis·com·bob·u·la·tion, noun — confusion: a feeling of embarrassment that leaves you confused

related: Pain (and disgust) at the pump

My friend Brooke said the doors at this New Jersey gas station were covered with notes, but this one in particular caught her attention.

(I particularly enjoyed the suggested topics of conversation. Kinda softened the tone a bit compared to this version from Toronto, no?)

related: A plea from your Boston-area barista

Spotted by Kelly at gas station somewhere between Los Angeles and Monterey, California: a prime example of why notewriters (and corporations) cannot live on spell-check alone.

related: Stupid is as stuiped does

For the folks who found yesterday’s “do not come in” post a bit too “kids say the darndest things” precious, I figured I’d better even things out with a look at what happens when those neglected jealous siblings grow up…and get armed.

Exhibit A, spotted by Heather at a gas station in Gastonia, North Carolina

Exhibit B, which Steve found pinned to a tree in Athens, Ohio (where, while visiting friends, he stumbled upon the property of the local necrophiliac farmer)

And lastly, Exhibit C, spotted by Dex outside a “fairly dilapidated” house in Raleigh, North Carolina

related: The right to bear fruit

CT and his friends were driving home from the beach when they stopped at a gas station in Luverne, Alabama and found this posted next to the men’s bathroom.

“The ‘Danger!’ sign below was apparently the first attempt to keep people from opening this door,” says CT. “God only knows what’s behind it. I’m assuming this door of unspeakable power continued to get opened, prompting the posting of the second sign.”

Hey, I feel your pain, gas station attendant, having to deal with so much stupidity all day long. But — with the help of Rachael in Portland — I think I’ve found someone else who can relate.

Allow me to introduce Lily. She’s 8.

related: An anonymous rant against anonymity

On a recent road trip around southern Maine, Noelle and her friends Hilary and Misha spotted this puzzling little note posted in the back of a gas station convenience store.

When they left, Noelle says, “The manager ran after us, screaming, ‘What were you girls doing, taking pictures of my store like that?!’” Noelle and her friends fessed up, explaining that they thought the note to Pat was funny, is all. The manager’s reply: “Oh, Pat! Soon as we put up that sign, he quit! That was five years ago. Haven’t seen him since! We just haven’t gotten around to taking the sign down yet.

related: all your baristas are belong to us
extra credit: “laundrymat”

Just in case gas prices aren’t hurting you enough lately, Tim from Madison, Wisconsin brings us this stomach-turning (yet impressively restrained) note from a petrol station somewhere en route to Green Bay.

Meanwhile, Tonya in Oakland passes along a photo taken by a traveler brave/desperate enough to actual enter a gas station restroom somewhere in Utah.

And finally, the kicker, from Jim in Columbia, S.C. —  who would’ve guessed that germaphobia and gas-station employment aren’t mutually exclusive?

related: “If it wasn’t for the toilet, there would be no books”