So Close, So Far Away

I needed gas last night. Well, I needed gas for quite a few days, but since I don't drive much, I can put it off for a week or two without any problem. Last night, the "Check Gauges" red light went on. It's a nice way of saying, "Hey! You've been putting off filling your tank for too long. In a little while, it's going to be too late!"

So, with reluctance, I pulled into the nearest gas station, about two blocks from my house. I should point out that it's always been about two blocks from my house, but really out of the way since I always make a right turn about one block from my house. That extra block is an inconvenience. Well, usually; last night it was a slight inconvenience. As for my destination, all I had to do was make a loop around the block and there I was.

Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?

Took, I think, 12.75 gallons into a 13-gallon tank. Close, but no embarrassment.

It would be a different matter if I were going on a trip. Fill-up at the nearest station to the Interstate and another when the needle starts dipping below one-half. You never know when you might enter a no-gas-zone, or be stuck in a jam and then you're SOL, as they say. Driving around town with the gas gauge laying down and ready to go to sleep is one thing; gambling on an Interstate is quite another.

On a long trip, passing gas is rude, but passing a gas station is stupid.