This year my family was going to be out of town for the
thanksgiving holiday. My daughter attends college close to my husband’s family
and the boys wanted to hunt. Since we only have one reliable vehicle I offered
to stay home (didn’t have any vacation days from work). I made the last-minute
decision to participate in a race thanksgiving morning. Being a sucker for
bling I went with the race that had a medal even though it was a little farther
from home.
Since they boys took the reliable vehicle I was left to
drive “the truck”. I hate driving the truck. It is old, smelly and prone to
having battery issues. On Saturday I tried to move this horrible vehicle into
the upper driveway, and it wouldn’t start. For days I begged my husband to
charge the battery and drive it before they left.
Thanksgiving morning, I am up early ready for my hour drive
to Annapolis. The green hunk of junk that I’m driving seems to be driving okay.
The idiot light comes on about 15 minutes from my destination, so I stop for
gas. Start to pump the gas and it starts following back out of the car. Weird…maybe
I don’t have the nozzle in right. Readjust and try again. Gas still not going
in. Must be a trick to putting gas in the truck that I’m not aware of. Call
hubby who is sleeping soundly in Pennsylvania with my reliable car. Nope no
trick to putting gas in the car. Maybe the clerk can help you. Well…Now I have
been pumping gas for many years! I remember when the gas cap was behind the
license plate. The clerk walks out to the pump with me and the gas is still not
going in. The clerk informs me that “it’s obvious that the tank is full”. I try
to explain that there is no way that the tank is full but “it’s obvious that
the tank is full”. At this point I am late for my race and smell of gasoline.
I decide to move the truck to the closet shopping center
parking lot and contact my friend/race partner. She agrees to come get me. I’m
also told that this is karma getting me because I didn’t tell her about the
race. If you listen to her story, I called at 4am but it was really 7:45. While
waiting for my rescue hubby calls to let me know that the evap vent is either
clogged or shifted. He tells me that I should be able to put gas in it, but it
will be a slow process. Skip ahead to when my friend arrives, and we get a junk
1-gallon gas can. The gas can must have required a PhD to use. We get enough
gas into the truck to drive it to the gas station (we wore most of that
gallon).
It takes us 20 minutes to put 20 gallons of gas in the
truck. Literally an ounce at a time!
I drove the truck home with my friend following me. The
truck seemed to be running okay, so I wave good-bye and drive the last 7 miles
home. Well…the truck started to run rough. Make it home and decide that the
rest of the day will be spent in my pajamas watching Netflix with the dogs.
Moral of the story…Do not sign up for races until you have
talked to your running partner.
Good news! I was able to pick up my medal so now I can make
it a virtual run.