My funniest story about service stations goes back to 1972, when I went up to Durham University. Friend and I had been on the pop then suddenly discovered we were starving. As it was after ten at night every outlet was closed. Said friend had a car, a rarity for students then, and suggested we go to the Washington service station on the A1(M). This we did; had a very indifferent and expensive meal of sausage, peas and chips. Friend then said he was out of fags and went to the vending machine. He came back with tears in his eyes. When I asked what the matter was, he showed me his purchase. He had gone to the wrong machine, and instead of getting 20 Embassy he came back with a packet of multi-coloured condoms, exclaiming,"...and that was my last ten bob bit!"