Monday, March 7, 2011

SOLSC Day 7 Chicken With the Gas

I have a 19-mile commute to school and not far from there is my gas station. The gas is usually a little cheaper and they actually pump the gas for you (a rarity in our area!). Sure, I am capable of pumping my own gas. But in the cold, snow, wind, heat or I'm too tired, it's great to smile and have someone else do it.

So when the little beacon of light shines on my dashboard, I take a deep breath and check the numbers that indicate how many miles I have to go until empty. Here comes the confession. I've been known to see it indicate 38 miles or so until empty as I am heading home. Doing mental calculations, I figure I can make it home and back to school and the extra mile to reach my gas station. Roughly. I have figured that the dashboard numbers must be an estimate and merely a gentle warning. The next morning, on several occasions, I have glanced down at the taunting dial still shining. With school in sight, I have seen 1 mile until empty indicated. My heart pounds, I make promises to the maker of my car and hope I don't have to call AAA for gas. I hold my breath that I don't have to wait too many minutes to pull into the station because I might not make it.

Today as I was driving home I realized, as I was about 5 miles from school toward home, that I had forgotten to get gas. In a weak-brained moment, I almost turned around toward my gas station. I toyed with the idea of returning there in the morning, my mileage indicator said 25 miles and after all it was probably only an estimate until the ultimate empty.

Common sense returned and I pumped my own gas at a "foreign" station 4 miles from home. I bet I could have made it. It appears that I play a game with my car called chicken.

1 comment:

  1. Sue,

    Your voice describes such an ordinary event in an extraordinary way. I had to chuckle too as I think of Mark teasing me about the "E" meaning empty not enough! Isn't it funny how we have our always feels weird to shop any place besides "my" Wegmans. ~Theresa