Daughters of Satan (1972)--Burnt Offerings (1976)
The Seventies. Nineteen-seventies, that is. Before the Internet, cell phones, and, to the greatest degree, Velcro When you ran low on fuel, you pulled into a “service” station. No, not a “gas” station where you pumped your own, but a “service” station where a young man in a bow tie came to your car and greeted you, then sold you premium gasoline at 35 cents a gallon. While the gas tank was filling, he washed your front and rear windows, checked your tire pressure, motor oil level, coolant (it was called it “water” back then), and your power steering fluid (maybe your brake fluid too, if you asked), and he did all of this at no charge. When you paid for your gasoline, he presented you with a receipt, a hand-full of Blue Chip stamps (redeemable for merchandise) and a free steak knife. If this Service Station Attendant worked 40 hours a week at a buck and a quarter an hour, he could afford rent, groceries, a late model used car, a girlfrien...