Gas

Andy's advice to me when we moved here was to never let the gas tank get below 1/4 tank because there aren't many gas (petrol) stations near where we live.  Yes, sir, Andy.  Well guess what he does on a regular basis?  He lets his gas tank get so empy the light comes on. 

Tonight before dinner he needed to get gas.  That means we have to drive completely out of the community.  This is so out of the way because we ate dinner across the street from our neighborhood.  Anyways as we are approaching the only way out, there is a huge line of traffic.  "Uh oh.  This isn't good," he says.  He checks to see how many kilometers we have left.  0.  That's right 0 kilometers left, and we still have to make it out of our community, 5 miles down the freeway, u-turn, and then 5 miles back up the freeway. 

First he turns off the rear air, then he turns off the radio, then he turns off our air.  So now we are still sitting in traffic with the windows down.  I start praying, "Dear God, please get us to the gas station."  I'm imagining Andy pushing his car out of traffic, me having to walk a long ways, being late for dinner, who to call to help us, getting ran over because of the crazy drivers.  Basically my nerves started getting to me.  I also start chewing Andy out about not taking his own advice about getting gas.  Poor Andy had to listen to me fuss for about 40 minutes.  Yes, 40 minutes with the traffic on 0 kilometers to get gas.

God answered my prayer because we arrived safely at the gas station and were able to turn the air back on as we coasted into the lot.  0 kilometers turning into 10 miles was a nice miracle. 

P.S.  we weren't late for dinner