On The Brink

This morning I did a very scary thing. I was sweating bullets on my drive to work. My hands were shaking and couldn’t focus on the road. I was unable to rip my gaze away from the red line bobbing over the ‘E’ on my dashboard.

I knew I had to get gas this morning but I was already running late, I had trouble getting into the right lane, the station was full, I didn’t have any cash, and I’m an idiot. Excuses were mounting like polished off drinks at the Kennedy estate. My car was so empty it begged with me to get gas this morning.

“Peter.”
“What!?”
“I’m soooo thirsty.”
“I don’t see any stations… sorry.”
“We passed four already!”
"Five more minutes."
“Feed Me Seymour!”

It audibly groaned at me as we drove by the last service station, as if to say ‘this is not a good idea’. I don’t take advice from my car. You start taking their suggestions and soon you’ll find you don't have any peace in your life. Generally inanimate objects are selfish, and the ones that aren’t don’t seem to be as chatty.

I’ve run out of gas more times than I care to remember. When Patricia and I were dating I ran out gas half a dozen or more times. We got quite used to our little ‘forced exercise’ episodes. I recall one time, on the highway, at night, miles from home, or any gas stations. Good times.

About a mile past the station I started to freak out. The line bobbed below empty, and the ‘you're a moron’ light got brighter. Is it supposed to do that? I’ve never seen that before. I started tapping the brakes to send a trickle of gasoline forward to the sensor. The line raised slightly, and brought my spirits with it. Then the light would go off for a second. I'd breathe deeply while accelerating, which sent the line down passed the 'E' again and popped the light back on. I did this about eight times, just because. I can only imagine how much gas that burned. I was also able to achieve a wide berth off my rear bumper. Go figure.

So I finally coast into a parking spot at the office on fumes and hope. I have zero gas in my tank and I'm nowhere near a filling station. Don’t be too surprised if you see me marching down the freeway this evening. It's okay, I can use the walk.