Could I get some gas, please?
This request came when the flyboys (I think there were two of them with me that time), and I were flying new planes to San Jose, CA from the East Coast. We each flew a plane. Often it would be more convenient to set down in an airfield near a small town, as long as the weather wasn't wonky or predicted to be wonky. ("Wonky" is my current term for weird and it didn't exist back in the day). We wouldn't be bothered with getting in line behind large commercial aircraft, waiting for the company to meet a schedule. Sometimes we needed to land because we needed fuel. This was a time of 'gas-shortage-in-America' to the extreme. Many small airfields didn't even get fuel deliveries because of the shortage. But I do remember that the weather wasn't wonky, wouldn't be wonky, and it was time to set down for the night. I loved the small airports, flying across and over them, low and slow (well, as fast as the plane could go). And in the middle of