Misery loves company

Well, another streak has officially fallen. I have lived my entire life without running out of gas....until last night. I was the Cal Ripken of not running out of gas. Even when I was flat broke and drove a 1969 VW, I always was smart enough to get gas, even if it was "$1 on pump 4 please" type fill up. I was the king of the needle. I knew exactly how much gas I had left, and it even was exciting to see how low it can go. The only way to tell you the story is a timeline:

10:00am "Fuel level low" light comes on on my way to work. I got plenty of gas to get to work and back.

6:30 pm Ian texts me to come over after work for a beer. Michelle has 'Girls night out, and the kids will be asleep by then.

9:15 pm Leave work for Ian's. Might as well swing by the ATM to deposit checks, it's on the way. I will fuel up tomorrow before work, since Ian always drives to the beach on weekends. Totally disregard the Shell station in front of the shop. Beer is waiting. Totally forgetting my lunchtime delivery guy took a few catering orders in my truck today.

9:26 pm Sputter, sputter.....and shut down on Newport Blvd. right before Cowan Heights, on a dangerous curve, in the darkest friggin stretch of road in OC. Make it to the shoulder.

9:26:02 pm "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!!!"

9:27 pm Call Dawn to bring gas can. Didn't have the balls to ask her to fill it up on the way, believe me there are some things you just skip.

9:35 pm Text Ian that I'm running a little late. If everything works out, he will never know this happened to me and I will take it to my grave.

9:40 pm Dawn and Meghan show up, we go to 76 station and fill up a gallon gas can, then drive back and position van at start of the curve with lights flashing to warn Friday night drunkards not to take my life a hundred yards ahead.

9:50 pm Empty the gallon of fuel into truck not knowing that since I am parked on an incline, the fuel is still too low to reach the pump thingymcjigger in the tank. Try to turn over the engine about 15 times, stop having to turn the key, because the battery just went dead from all the cranking.

10:00 pm Call Ian to tell him I am not going to make it over and have to call AAA for a dead battery (better than explaining how much of a douche his brother is.) He says Michelle just got home and do I want him to come jump me, since he hasn't been drinking yet. Figure AAA is going to take too long, so yes.

10:10 pm Ian shows up, we get my engine to crank, but not start. I need more gas, maybe. Jump in the van with Dawn and Meghan and head to the 76 station again for another gallon. As we drive away, I see Ian standing alone between our trucks with the jumper cables attached, freezing his ass off, waiting to be hit by traffic, probably thinking, "Why the fuck did I move so close to my asshole brother, I mean Aliso Viejo is really nice this time of year." I feel awful, but cover it up with nervous laughter.

10:15 pm Return with the second gallon of gas, empty it into the tank, crank it over, and it starts right away. Profusely thank Ian, who is gracious as can be. Have him follow me to the gas station, before we cruise to his house for that beer. My wife still let me go, unfuckingbelievable. She's a keeper.

10:20 pm Pump tells me to see attendant after swiping my card for the third time in a half hour. The first two were for just under a gallon of gas, gotta love my bank. Door is locked, attendant is at home drinking beer, I surmise. Have to try different card at different pump, all the time feeling my brother roll his eyes and shake his head at my doucheyness.

10:30 pm Finally get to his house, and he still serves me a Jack and coke as we laugh at my stupidity.

Lemme tell you, when I fuck up, I fuck up.....and I seem to always get every blood relative within state lines involved. So to all of you, I am truly sorry, Pizzas are on me!

Funny, but all I could think about the entire time was one of my favorite scenes from Seinfeld: