Picture this. It’s Monday. Your husband says, “My gas is on low. Would you mind if I took your car, I won’t have time to stop?” Your reply, “Sure, no problem.” Unfortunately, that’s when life gets interesting.
Let me start at the beginning. My husband has a new car. I’ve never driven said car for more than a couple of errands. How was I supposed to know that the new car did not have a gas light? It simply said, “Fuel low”. What kind of car doesn’t have a gas light?
So, there I was going west on Route 30 at the North George Street Light at 3:30 on Monday. The light changed, my car starts to go and then runs completely out of gas right before the left turn lane at the next light. Guess who’s the jerk blocking traffic in the left-hand lane? Oh, it’s just me. I cannot believe that I ran out of gas.
What do you do? I called 911 to let them know that I was blocking traffic on a major road and that I needed police assistance. Then, I threw my car into neutral and tried pushing it to at least get it into the turning lane, so that I wasn’t the jerk blocking as much traffic. Yes, I a woman, attempted to push my car. It was going well too, but then a nice gentleman in a truck stopped and helped. Thank you, sir!
Everything turned out fine, the guy, he helped me push the car into the T-mobile parking lot across the street. I had multiple conversations with 911 and the Officer who was sent out to assist me. My co-workers didn’t make too much fun of me and even sent someone to take me for gas at the closest Rutter’s.
All in all, I only wasted about an hour of my time. It really could have been worse. I mean I could still be sitting there. At least now, I can laugh about it. I wasn’t really happy on Monday.
Oh, and I still haven’t told my husband that I ran out of gas in his new car. You see, I yelled at him when he did the same thing on Route 30 coming from Lancaster about a week before my incident.
Now, I just have to call Ford to find out why they didn’t install a gas light in this model car. Anyone else run out of gas?