Running out of gas isn’t always a bad thing.
Today I ran out of gas for the first time. It was awesome.
I should have known that today was going to be the day it would happen. Not because my gas gauge was below the little “E” line, but because just yesterday I said this:
Me: I pretty much never have gas. Like, have you ever gotten in my car and said to yourself, “Wow, Lara has a solid amount of gas”?
My super lovely friend and coworker who I spend so much time with we say the same things at the same time with the same tone of voice: Oh, absolutely not. It’s always on empty.
So yeah, of course, today I decide to get into a pissing match with by better [psychic subconscious] senses and not stop for a few bucks of gas when it crossed my mind, because I was convinced I could make it home. And then I was convinced I could make it to Loehmann’s. And then I was convinced I could make it to Costco, which has a gas station.
I was wrong.
My car ran out of gas right in front of Loehmann’s. I turned the key, and George started coughing and gave me the big ol’, “Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere.” In retrospect, I should have just named my car Charlie Sheen, because then it would only have one speed: go.
So I did what any sane person would do and called AAA, and it turned into the best thing ever.
Turns out that if you’re some sort of preferred a.k.a. better-than-everyone-else member, you get $7 in gas brought to you for free. Why didn’t I know about this before? I would have been purposefully running out of gas for years.
Not only did someone bring me enough gas to get me to and from work for a week, but I got to go shopping while I waited the half hour for the tow truck.
Hey, Lara, isn’t that kind of like someone paying you $14 an hour to go shopping?
Yes, it is. And I’ve never done a better job at anything.
I’m not sure if this guy was just awesome or all tow truck drivers are just oblivious, but he didn’t even check to see if my car was really out of gas. So I’m pretty sure that next time my tank is low while I’m out shopping and I have half an hour to kill, I’m going to call AAA and get me some gas.
Now all I have to do is perfect the art of getting men to buy me food and other fun things and my only real expense will be my apartment. Oh, and my AAA membership.