Found written on a scrap of paper from the back seat of the car, on an unusually warmish Spring day in March:
"Stuck outside the post office with the empty gas tank blues again" Doesn't have the same ring to it as Bob Dylan's "Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again" does it? That's why he made the big bucks now isn't it????
Here I sit, thanks be to God, in the shade, thanks be to God at my destination, (the post office), thanks be to God with my husband on the way because my car decided to stall on me right at one of the craziest intersections in the region. I restarted it on the fly, made it through the traffic and in a rather frenzied "stall, restart and lurch" manner and made it another 500 yards to this spot. An actual parking space under a nice tree.
Sweet!
My first official guess is that the fuel line has come undone. My second official guess is that the fuel gauge is broken. Because when I left the house, it said I had just over half a tank of gas. Now it reads dead empty. And it's only 6 or 7 miles from our house to the post office. Either one of my two guesses is right, or our car is getting REALLY bad gas mileage these days.
Furthermore, I'm thank - - - Oh look, here he comes now! BRB.
Hah! The fuse was blown on the fuel gauge. . . . in other words, the fuel gauge had become a lying sack of _ _ _ _... ahem... what I mean is, it had become unreliable.
He brought gas. He replaced the fuse. He is following me home.
My hero.
As "running out of gas" stories go, this one went about as well as one could expect.
I DID have to fork over ten dollars to the good looking hero though.
Seems HE was running on empty too!