Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Whoops

Just yesterday I was thinking to myself, “what am I gonna blog about this week? There hasn’t really been anything more out of the ordinary than usually, nothing quite blog worthy.”


And then I ran out of gas.

Literally.

I had to take Dakota to piano lessons and then from there we went directly to VM to see my niece Chloe play softball. The softball fields that are directly behind Casey’s, the gas station in our little town. But I was in a hurry because we were already late to the game and I didn’t want to miss any more of it, after all it was Chloe’s first game of the season and I’m always trying to further secure my standing as Aunt of the Year.


Besides you just don’t want to miss this kind of cuteness in a softball uniform.

Or this cuteness who was also there cheering on her big sister and eating rocks and grass.

As we were driving from piano to the softball game the gas light came on along with that little message that shows up on my dashboard that says “Fuel Level Low.” I wish it would be more specific as in HOW low is the fuel level? Do I have 20 miles left? 10 miles? Or am I running on fumes right now? I used to drive a Ford Explorer that would say “Fuel Level EMPTY..GET FUEL NOW”. That’s the kind of specifics I need. And yes, I did see that message on my Explorer a few times…as I was rolling into the gas station. What can I say? I hate getting gas. It’s one of the reasons I got married. Also, slight clarification, the gas light *may* have been on prior to when I noticed it…may have.

So we drove right past Casey’s to go to the softball game. GI Joe and the boys met us there and we had a grand old time watching Chloe play softball, cheering obnoxiously (that might’ve been just me), taking a ridiculous amount of pictures (oh oops, just me again) and visiting with the rest of the family that was there. The game ended, I took a few more pictures and then we started to head home. I pulled out first and GI Joe was right behind me. We went back past Casey’s and about half a block to the stop sign. I stopped at the stop sign like any good law abiding citizen would do, after all I’m nothing if not a law abiding citizen. After I stopped for the appropriate amount of time, no rolling stops for me, no sirree, I pressed on the gas to go and the Princess Mobile sputtered and died. Just died.

I did what I always do in situations like these, called GI Joe. Not really sure why I called him since he was right behind me and it’s not like this is a booming metropolis where I would be risking life and limb to get out of my vehicle to walk to his, but that’s what I did. I told him my car died which I’m guessing he had already figured out since we weren’t, you know, moving. He hopped out of his truck and got in mine and tried to start it. Nothing. I was sure my starter (that’s a thing right?) had gone out or some other major mechanical malfunction and told him as much. I’ve watched nearly every episode of “Pimp My Ride” so I’m obviously a mechanical expert. That’s when he noticed that annoying orange light and the dinging sound and the message on my dash that said “Fuel Level Low”. Which obviously was a lie because all indications pointed to “Fuel Level ZERO”. GI Joe turned to me, slightly exasperated and said, “You’re out of gas.”


Oh whoops.

“See that little store back there with the GAS PUMPS in front? You know, the one you DROVE PAST…TWICE?!? Maybe you should’ve stopped there.”

“What? The light JUST came on, how could it be out of gas already?”

“Babe, the light didn’t just come on or you wouldn’t be out of gas right now.”


“Well, I JUST noticed it….”

He shakes head, files for divorce.

Just kidding. He didn't even get mad.  He really is kind of a saint. Saint GI Joe of Patience for Blonde Wife. I should get a medallion with that on it.

He got back in his truck, told his dad and mom who were behind him at the stop sign the situation and asked his dad to run home to get a 5 gallon gas can, and drove the whole half a block back to Casey’s to get gas, leaving me there to speak to the various townspeople who pulled up beside me at the stop sign to offer unsolicited commentary. In 3 weeks time I’ve had my peacock on the City Hall’s Facebook status and now stalled out at the busiest intersection in town, I’m building quite the reputation for myself. Oh and did I mention that usually when I run out of gas it takes a full 10 gallons in the gas tank before it will start again? It’s a fun little quirk GMC/Chevy added to vehicles like mine that we learned about a few Halloweens ago. So using the 1 gallon gas can GI Joe had was going to take a while to get the PMobile back up and running, which is why he sent his dad to get a 5 gallon one. Funny story….as the gas can situation was being discussed GI Joe’s mom piped up and asked his dad, “Don’t you have a 10 gallon gas can?” He promptly began laughing and teasing her about the non existence of a 10 gallon gas can and if it did exist it would probably have to have wheels because can you imagine someone trying to carry a Geo Metro’s gas tank down the highway when they ran out of gas?

GI Joe quickly returned with the 1 gallon can full of gas and put it in the PMobile. He did some magic and somehow got her started. Which is a clear indication that it was not COMPLETELY out of gas or it would’ve taken the full 10 gallons to get her started again. But I wasn’t going to mention that I was, in fact, kind of right, so he drove it to Casey’s and filled it up and I followed behind in his truck. When we got to Casey’s, I asked him if I should just head home and get supper started because it was late and we were starving. Instead of giving me the go ahead he told me absolutely not that I had to drive my PMobile home as he didn’t want people thinking it was HIM that had run out of gas at the stop sign…half a block past the GAS station. As I was waiting for my gas to be pumped by my handsome husband in uniform so I could drive it home and he could avoid further embarrassment, a single friend of ours pulled into the parking lot. I gave her the lowdown of our night, she laughed and said to GI Joe, “I can’t even get a date and here she gets someone with your tolerance level. Life is so unfair.” Hahahaha. Sorry ‘bout your luck T.


In closing 1) next time AS SOON AS I SEE THE ORANGE LIGHT ON I’ll *try* to remember to get gas…immediately and 2) there’s a special place in heaven for GI Joe for getting the pleasure of dealing with me and my various idiosyncrasies all these years.

In my defense, he is the one who told my mom he wanted to marry me “because life will never be boring”. I’m just holding up my end of the bargain.

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