Another Monday morning today. It started like any other morning except that I’m jet lagged from a trip to Michigan, and I keep waking up three hours earlier than I’m supposed to. If I was normal, I would use my human powers to fall asleep at any time I wanted to, but I have some sort of freak thing in my head that says, “Once you get up, there’s no going back.” So I said “screw it” and got up and sat at my computer to read all of my e-mail from when I was gone. Eightysome messages later, I discovered how much I was missed…apparently by everyone who knows I need a member enhancement, discount Viagra, free webcam access, a date, and to refinance my house. I sorted down to about 20 quality e-mails and then decided not to read them, but take a shower instead.
I left for work and noticed my gas tank was nearing bone dry and as I was pulling into the gas station, I was overwhelmed with a desire to get cheaper gas in town. I passed up the Mobil, looked back at the guage, and arbitrarily decided that near empty = enough gas to get me there and back. I felt good about it and turned up the tunes.
I didn’t get gas in town. In fact, the next time I would get gas would be at that very station I passed up in the morning. I left the office, ran some errands, and continued home. As I was halfway to the middle of nowhere, I noticed I had E gallons left. At any moment my truck would run out of gas. It was thrilling and freaky all at the same time. I turned off the AC and switched to vent. Let the 105-degree air blow in my eyes! I turned down my music – I needed every drop in that tank.
Alas, it wasn’t enough. My car started slowing down but I denied that gas was the problem. Maybe I was in the wrong gear. I panicked. I shifted into third going 60 miles an hour. Momentum was lost to this horrible decision. I quick dropped it into fourth and floored it. Still slower. Fate it seems finally caught up with me. I mashed the hazard lights as I neared 35 mph in a 75 mph zone. Cars flew past me and cut me off from pulling into the shoulder. I eventually made the shoulder. I sat there and couldn’t think of what to do. Could I walk to a gas station in the Arizona heat for three miles? Maybe not. I sat thinking again for a few more minutes. I tried to start my car up for some odd reason. I figured maybe the fuel injection gnomes started pullin’ double duty and located a secret reserve of gas in my spare tire or something. Still dead. I called mom and she came to the rescue.
To add insult to injury, an ADOT helpermobile passed me by when my mom finally picked me up. At least I learned my lesson, for now. I snagged a red gasoline tank and filled it up at the Mobil I passed about eight hours before.