the other day some of the girls that i’m a youth counselor for were discussing with anticipation how excited they are to either get their learner’s permit or driver’s license. and they may get to drive the family vehicle to and from church but as for having their own set of wheels they bemoaned the fact that they’d be old when that actually became a reality.
i sympathized with them.
itold them i didn’t actually get my first car until i was 26. (by their reactions – that age definitely constituted being old). when i first got it, i had to get used to having a key other than my house key. i think i locked my keys in the car a grand total of three times. the gas gauge also was somewhat of a mystery. i knew E meant empty, but i wasn’t sure exactly how close i could get to it before i was officially, certifiably, empty. usually when i hit a quarter of a tank i went to fill up.
for some reason i slacked off last week. my car can make it to dc and back and then a little bit on one tank of gas… i had pushed the definition of “a little bit” for about a week and a half. as i pulled into the church parking lot wednesday night my car locked up, power steering disappeared and everything that could turn red, pretty much did.
i hadn’t even completed the turn. i sat there, laughing, with my car half hanging into south avenue and half pointed at the church. of all the places to run out of gas this was definitely the right place. i put the car in neutral and two of my young women and their moms quickly pushed me fully into the parking lot. one of their husbands came to the rescue with a can of gas from his car…
i guess e probably means empty even before it’s all the way at e.