oh, gas tank.
Short story: I ran out of gas right in the middle of a busy street.
Long story: I have a faulty fuel gauge that told me I had a quarter of a tank left.
I had no cell phone, as it was charging on the counter at home. I was in sticky, sweaty gym clothes. My husband is working a 48 hour shift. I ran to the liquor store across the street to use the pay phone, but alas, it seems pay phones are obsolete in my area. :| The v.v.v. nice liquor store lady not only let me use the store phone to call my daddy, but she gave me a paper towel AND a bottle of water because I was still sweating and gross from my workout. I had money with me, but she refused to let me pay for the water.
My daddy came, we used his cell to call the boy at work and then AAA. 40 minutes later the AAA tow truck guy came, tried to start my car, and said, "I think you're out of gas."
I went :| at him, because I stand by my belief that running out of gas has to be the stupidest thing you can do in a car besides drive while intoxicated. He was unimpressed by my :| face and filled me up with a few gallons.
The car started.
"Faulty fuel gauge," says the nice man. "Says you've got gas, but you don't."
My father looked at me and said, "I promise to tell your husband it wasn't your fault."
Thank goodness for daddies, and also extended warranties.
Long story: I have a faulty fuel gauge that told me I had a quarter of a tank left.
I had no cell phone, as it was charging on the counter at home. I was in sticky, sweaty gym clothes. My husband is working a 48 hour shift. I ran to the liquor store across the street to use the pay phone, but alas, it seems pay phones are obsolete in my area. :| The v.v.v. nice liquor store lady not only let me use the store phone to call my daddy, but she gave me a paper towel AND a bottle of water because I was still sweating and gross from my workout. I had money with me, but she refused to let me pay for the water.
My daddy came, we used his cell to call the boy at work and then AAA. 40 minutes later the AAA tow truck guy came, tried to start my car, and said, "I think you're out of gas."
I went :| at him, because I stand by my belief that running out of gas has to be the stupidest thing you can do in a car besides drive while intoxicated. He was unimpressed by my :| face and filled me up with a few gallons.
The car started.
"Faulty fuel gauge," says the nice man. "Says you've got gas, but you don't."
My father looked at me and said, "I promise to tell your husband it wasn't your fault."
Thank goodness for daddies, and also extended warranties.