Tuesday, September 18, 2007

I AM A FUCKING MORON

When I purchase a new car, I carefully run-in the engine. I drive at varied speeds and RPMs, occasionally taking my foot off of the accelerator to allow the engine to spool down, and to ensure thorough distribution of oil throughout the powerplant. At 1,000 miles, I change the oil and filter, replacing the factory-provided lubricant with full synthetic Mobil One. Then, I run the car out of gas. All the way out of gas. Bucking and stuttering and stalling out, so that I can know, within a mile or two, the range of my car.

Of course, this assumes several things: That I started with a full tank of gas, that I have driven sanely, and that all of the other variables that determine the mileage are similar.

So, tonight, I was not the least bit concerned when I got on the Mass Pike in my Volvo XC90. I had an empty tank, and was into the reserve. I figured that I could make it to the Natick Plaza, where I could fill up with some 87 Octane fuel (or maybe I would splurge, pumping a little 93 Octane). Unfortunately, I didn't notice the mileage at which I went into the reserve, and soon, my car was once more bucking and stuttering, just before it stalled out in a parking lot entrance.

And, there I sat, blocking traffic, while my hazard lights beat out a warning to approaching automobiles.

"Shit!" I said. "I can not believe that I did that."

"Fuck!" I said. "I can not believe that cop just rolled past me."

Then, a kind gentleman asked if I needed help. Another car stopped. Then, another. Soon, four people were helping me to push two tonnes of Swedish steel into a parking spot, and out of the way of the people trying to enter the lot.

Next, the man asked if I needed a ride to a filling station; and, if I needed a fuel can. (I note that he had three.)

And so, this man, after a hard day at work, drove me to buy gas, poured it into my tank, and made sure that my car would start. Then, he set off, accepting my thanks as his reward. And, something about "paying it forward."

So, I first want to thank the fine folks who helped me out today.

"Thank you."

To those who ignored a fellow human in need, I want to say, "Fuck off!"

Instead, I will say...

aw, forget it...

"Fuck off!"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I thought I was the only one who played chicken with my fuel gauge.I love the warm soft glow of the fuel low warning indicator.