There have only been two times in my life when, while driving, I completely ran out of gas like a nincompoop. The first time, I was about 17 years old and I was driving with a friend and a good looking girl I had just met. I was driving on the highway in my hometown, and I felt the familiar jerkiness of a car nearing the "E" on the gas meter. So I quickly found an exit . . . a gas station sat ontop a hill at the end of the road but we didn't quite make it. The car came to a hault. But I was 17, and it was a warm Saturday night in the Texas summer. And we were just cruisin' around town doing nothing anyway. So my buddy and I hopped out of my car and started pushing from behind while the cute girl took the wheel and steered us to the gas station. It created alittle adventure on a boring night in Amarillo Texas, and I had the opportunity to impress a cute little filly with both my silliness and my hulking strength :).
The second time I completely drained my gas tank was this afternoon. There were no friends with me to help me push. There was no attractive females to impress. It was just me. . . alone . . . on a cold, wintery, windy, Chicago afternoon sitting in my truck on 75th, with cars whizzing by me, wondering how I forgot to put gas in my car today. I walked only a mile or two to the nearest 7-11 to buy a gas can and some gasoline, but I didn't have a jacket . . . and did I mention it was COLD and WINDY? The second experience wasn't nearly as interesting as the first.
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