LIFE'S A GAS

This is how my gas gauge has looked for over a year now.  It is broken, and always tells me I’m on empty, even though I just filled the tank. It’s an expensive repair so I just make sure I fill the tank once a week.  I have poured so much money into this car in the last couple years.  Seems like almost every part has been replaced.

So I’m driving up the freeway late on a Saturday night and suddenly notice my car is slowing down.  I instinctively pull over to the side and am lucky to find a relatively safe spot on the side of the freeway before my car steering and brakes give out on me.  Great, now what?  The battery light is showing and I just had that replaced so what could it be?  I’m a little nervous – it’s late, it’s dark, it’s cold and cars are whipping past me, causing my car to shudder.  I’m hoping nobody is going to smash into me and I lock my doors to protect myself from random axe murderers.  I have to wait an hour for the tow truck to arrive and am glad I have an extra coat to snuggle in because the temperature is dropping rapidly. Yes, I know I'm not in Montana or some other snowy place, but it still gets cold at night here in December, people! I could have died!  OK, maybe not. 
I start getting bored and wonder who I can call and annoy.  I text my son who is at his dad's but he doesn't reply.  Well of course not.  After all, he's 17, it's Saturday night, so obviously he is either fast asleep or reading the Bible.
Now I’m getting sleepy and try to keep one eye open to watch the headlights speeding by in my rear view mirror. Have to keep an eye out for those drunken drivers headed my way.  And the axe murderers. Have to stay awake so I'm not caught snoring and drooling.

Finally the tow truck arrives.  It is a welcome sight.  The driver has me leave my keys in the car and get into his cab.  I feel like I am scaling a mountain.  It is a steep climb into his truck and I grasp at handles and haul myself up as best I can, while tugging on my sweater, which keeps riding up.  The guy is watching me from below and I’m glad I’m not wearing a dress!  I watch out the back window as he loads my huge Suburban onto his truck.  Have you ever seen someone load a vehicle onto a tow truck?  It’s pretty amazing, especially for a big bulging beastly car like mine.  I was mesmerized.   

photo from internet. I was not smart enough to take my own.  Looks more dramatic at night.

When we start driving, he says he can’t figure out what’s wrong with my car.  I describe what happened when it shut down and he thought it might be the alternator or some belt defect but everything looked fine.  I begin to fear I have done something really stupid.  I cough nervously and say, “Um, do you think it might be out of gas?”  He looks surprised and says he hadn’t thought of that but yes that could be the problem.  We drive to the nearest gas station and I descend the mountain I mean truck to swipe my debit card on the gas pump.  You know how different gas stations have different pumps?  I swipe my card and then stand there perplexed because I can’t find the keypad to enter my zip code.  My new tow truck driver friend politely points it out to me.  This guy must think I’m an idiot.  In my defense, though, it was hiding way over to the right, instead of on the screen where it’s SUPPOSED TO BE.  Now I have to get on my tippy toes to reach my car’s gas tank because it is sitting on top of the tow truck, 50 feet up in the air.  As I raise my arm to reach up with the gas hose, my snug holiday sweater creeps up, exposing my tummy and my festive jingle bell belly button ring.  Don’t judge me.  I tug at my sweater and look around nervously to see if anyone saw my flesh display.  Yes.  Oh well.  I’m getting cranky now because I’m tired and it’s really cold and if I’ve run my car out of gas I’m going to feel like a total moran.  (Well, what’s new?) Mr. AAA climbs up onto the truck and into my car and turns the key and waala – my car is running again.  Part of me is glad I’m not looking at another expensive repair, the other part of me wants to crawl in a hole and die, or at least hide for a while.  

internet photo again

I watch the mechanical complexity of unchaining and unloading my car, thank the driver nervously, and hightail it out of there.  I can’t just go to a December holiday party and drive home like a normal person, can I?  No, I have to have a totally blond moment and embarrass myself.  Guess I’m just special that way.

Merry Christmas, y'all.