Sometimes, when it just becomes too much you just need to run away.
And then you run out of gas.
Literally.
As in, the gar has NO GAS in it and not only that, there is not one single one of the boys you birthed (two of them drug free, thankyouverymuch) is in the car with you to push.
So then you call AAA and they tell you your membership has expired, which you knew about but played dumb like you didn't know about it but you had thought you really didn't need it so you chose to not renew it. Until you ran out of gas, that is.
You tell the nice lady at AAA that you will just renew it right now and you give her your credit card number over the phone and it is declined.
Declined.
Actually, it wasn't declined. It was EXPIRED and the new one was on the kitchen counter where just this morning that guy that you like so much said, "aren't you going to activate that? You might need it."
You told him you would do it after you got home, and out the door you went.
So there you were, out of gas.
You told her you would figure something else out while you waited to reach your knight in shining armour.
Or a neighbor...you weren't picky.
You emptied your ashtray (cars don't have those anymore, but it's what used to be the ashtray if your car had an ashtray) and walked into the nearest place.
A bakery.
And there was Jesus.
Really.
Jesus (pronounced hay-seuss) was making bread and you had just enough for a coffee and a roll.
Warm, with butter.
Sigh.
As you were eating the lady from AAA calls you back and said she noticed you had another card on file and should she run it?
Ummm...yes.
The tow truck showed up 20 minutes later with enough gas for you to get to the gas station. You said goodbye to Jesus, who works THREE jobs (and pays taxes, he told you) to support his family (God love him) and get in your car.
You drive home, activate the card on the counter and drive back to the gas station.
And now all is well and you vow to never run away again.
The End.
You made me laugh so hard! Really...you could be the next Erma Bombeck and should have a newspaper column of your own! Oh wait, times have changed and people write blogs now. Shows my age!
ReplyDeleteDidn't your mother ever teach you how to put gas into the car? (and to read the gas gauge?)After all, your mom knew how to fix the broken headlight on the old Chevelle with a hammer.Just get out at a stoplight, hit the headlight with a hammer, get back in the car, and go.
ReplyDeleteI did teach her...and thanx once again for the memories. Don't remember the hammer part, but do remember hitting the headlight with my fist.
ReplyDeleteHoly friggin' crap. That's all I got, sister.........................
ReplyDelete4:30 AM for me and you made me LAUGH.OUT.LOUD! LOL I wish we lived closer together, I know I wouldn't ever have a dull moment! Miss you
ReplyDeleteWell, at least Michelle's mom didn't attack a toll booth machine...
ReplyDelete