Need a good laugh? Here's another one on me!
Two weekends ago I had to drive about 30 miles over to the Resaca exit on I-75 to meet up with Justin. From there we rode over to Clarksville, GA to pick up my Mother-in-law. I drove her car back to the Resaca exit for her and from there she followed Justin back to his house in Cleveland, and I hoped in the bug and drove back home.
I had driven Joy's convertible for some reason (don't remember why now) and knowing that she never runs low on gas and "thinking" that her gas gage doesn't work either, I never even thought about running out of gas . . . even though the gage plainly showed it being EMPTY. Needless to say . . . on the way home I ran out of gas. No big deal, do it all the time . . . break out the cell phone, call home, get my niece to head that way with a gas can. I filled up on the way home (I was only about 6 miles away).
Didn't go anywhere Sunday. Drove to work Monday. Blew out 3 quarts of oil on the way home. Car stayed parked until Friday, when I found that there was nothing wrong . . . my oil leak was due to cold, thick 30W oil.
Saturday, I need to go to show planning meeting at Herb's house in Ooltewah. Now, it's about 50 minutes to an hour away (no idea how many miles . . . the odometer don't work either.) OK, no fuel gauge, no odometer . . . how much gas do I have? Let's see . . . 6 miles home, 26 miles round trip to work, maybe 2 miles when I was trying to find the leak . . . yep that leaves PLENTY of gas to go to Ooltewah two or three times over! So, I take off.
The trip to Ooltewah burns off the rest of the oil from the engine, but other than the smell from that, everything goes fine. After the meeting, I followed Anthony and Misty to their house in East Ridge to borrow a couple of heat riser gaskets so I can get Homer on the road. Got the gaskets and headed home . . .
Just as I started up the hill before you get to Lake Winnie I heard and felt that oh too familiar "running out of gas" syndrome. I managed to pump enough through the accelerator pump to keep it going halfway up the hill then let my momentum carry me as far as it would go . . . then turned it into an electric car by using the starter with it in first gear to crest the hill (about 20 feet). From there, gravity took over and I took a free ride into the gas station at the bottom of the hill, hopped out and started filling up. All the time I'm thinking "Some low life so and so (ok, I was thinking a lot worse than that, but there are kids on here from time to time) stole my gas! I just filled up last weekend when I ran out! I couldn't have used a whole tank of gas! If I could get my hands on that thieving ###, I'd ring his neck! So, I'm sitting there pumping gas and muttering to myself . . .
Then . . . it hit me. "YOU DUMB###!" Kind 'a reminiscent of when I picked up that bumper I ran over (for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about there . . . good. I'm not going to elaborate). I wasn't in MY car when I ran out last weekend, that was in Joy's convertible! I can't remember the last time I put gas in this thing . . . but it was obviously too many miles ago!
Edited By Zen on 1044311224
