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In Continuing Adventures of Bewize
Yesterday, I did something very stupid. I admit it. I will even admit that I deserved to be fussed at (which I was) and that I certainly won't do it again. But, it's funny, so I'm sharing.
So, yesterday, I found out what happens when you wait to long to fill your gas tank. I knew I was about out; I was looking for a gas station, and my car just... started to stop. I managed through some Jedi mind-tricks to get the car across oncoming traffic without braking and into a CitGo station.
Now, let me set the stage. It's dusk. I have an hour+ drive to a closing. I'm already late. I'm in a business suit. I've got on heels. The parking lot is PACKED with cars. There are people - who all look very sketchy - going in and out of the store.
It turns out, that none of the gas pumps were physically present, except for three on the far right side. I was, of course, dead in the water on the left. So, I go inside, where everyone is staring at me like I'm an undercover cop. And in that part of town, being the color I am, it's not an entirely foregone conclusion.
Of course, it took them all about five seconds to realize that I was, instead, just a dumb white girl who ran out of gas. So, I purchased a gas canister and attempted to fill my car with enough gas to get it to run so I could move to the ONE functional pump. (Keep in mind, there is enough space for a dozen pumps. They're just... gone.)
After I provide much amusement to the spectators, one guy saunters over, "Awww, baby, don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna take real good care of you."
Now I'm stuck. Because, quite honestly, I need someone to "take real good care of me" at that moment, but his demeanor and his opening line set my teeth on edge. So I tell myself, "Bewize, this is what you get for being a dumbass."
I promptly go into my meek and mild impression, and Ray helps me out. Of course, it turns out Ray has no idea what we're doing either, and half an hour later, we're both drenched in gasoline. My hands, my sleeves, my jacket, the outside of my car, my shoes - ditto for him. But we manage.
During the half hour, Ray reveals to me that he's waiting for his aunt to come out of the store. Now, I've been in that store at least 3 times by this point and there are no women in it. So I ask him where she is and he says, "Downstairs in the basement."
I'm super confused, so I ask what's in the basement.
A casino.
Wait, let me clarify.
An illegal casino.
Now it all makes sense.
Finally, between Ray and I, we are smart enough to get the car gassed and moving, and I fork over $10 as thanks for saving the "damsel in distress." He took it and I warned him against lighting a cigarette any time soon, then left for my destination. For which I was 90 minutes late.
By the time I got there, I was sky high on gas fumes.
SO LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU ALL. TAKE WARNING FROM MY FAILURE. DON'T RIDE THE "E"!!!
Or you just might end up in a sketchy part of town, in front of an illegal casino, with one functional gas pump, dependent upon a guy named Ray who promises to "take real good care of you."
~FIN~
So, yesterday, I found out what happens when you wait to long to fill your gas tank. I knew I was about out; I was looking for a gas station, and my car just... started to stop. I managed through some Jedi mind-tricks to get the car across oncoming traffic without braking and into a CitGo station.
Now, let me set the stage. It's dusk. I have an hour+ drive to a closing. I'm already late. I'm in a business suit. I've got on heels. The parking lot is PACKED with cars. There are people - who all look very sketchy - going in and out of the store.
It turns out, that none of the gas pumps were physically present, except for three on the far right side. I was, of course, dead in the water on the left. So, I go inside, where everyone is staring at me like I'm an undercover cop. And in that part of town, being the color I am, it's not an entirely foregone conclusion.
Of course, it took them all about five seconds to realize that I was, instead, just a dumb white girl who ran out of gas. So, I purchased a gas canister and attempted to fill my car with enough gas to get it to run so I could move to the ONE functional pump. (Keep in mind, there is enough space for a dozen pumps. They're just... gone.)
After I provide much amusement to the spectators, one guy saunters over, "Awww, baby, don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna take real good care of you."
Now I'm stuck. Because, quite honestly, I need someone to "take real good care of me" at that moment, but his demeanor and his opening line set my teeth on edge. So I tell myself, "Bewize, this is what you get for being a dumbass."
I promptly go into my meek and mild impression, and Ray helps me out. Of course, it turns out Ray has no idea what we're doing either, and half an hour later, we're both drenched in gasoline. My hands, my sleeves, my jacket, the outside of my car, my shoes - ditto for him. But we manage.
During the half hour, Ray reveals to me that he's waiting for his aunt to come out of the store. Now, I've been in that store at least 3 times by this point and there are no women in it. So I ask him where she is and he says, "Downstairs in the basement."
I'm super confused, so I ask what's in the basement.
A casino.
Wait, let me clarify.
An illegal casino.
Now it all makes sense.
Finally, between Ray and I, we are smart enough to get the car gassed and moving, and I fork over $10 as thanks for saving the "damsel in distress." He took it and I warned him against lighting a cigarette any time soon, then left for my destination. For which I was 90 minutes late.
By the time I got there, I was sky high on gas fumes.
SO LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU ALL. TAKE WARNING FROM MY FAILURE. DON'T RIDE THE "E"!!!
Or you just might end up in a sketchy part of town, in front of an illegal casino, with one functional gas pump, dependent upon a guy named Ray who promises to "take real good care of you."
~FIN~
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And if even one person learns from me,... it'll be worth it. ;)