go straight to the garage. do NOT pass go. prepare to spend two hunnert bucks

This morning, the Fix-it Dudes sent someone to pick me up and retrieve my car around 8. Once the accounts were settled and I gave thanx many times to many people, I pulled my newly tanked tank outta the fix-it dudes' pitted pavement parking place. I noticed my "low fuel" light was on and my indicator was down past the "E" into the get-gas-get-it-now-do-not-pass-go-prepare-to-spend-two-hundred-dollars area. I live dangerously so I drove to the grocery store to pick up pudding mixes cuz I hadda craven'.

After Piggly Wiggly {i like that name, it's fun to say, it's fun to hear, it's fun to type/write}, I drove toward home, knowing that there are several gas stations between PigglyWiggly and the edge of town. I pulled into a place where I've gotten gas plenny o times and put in about five and a half gallons (cuz that was ten bucks worth. today, definitely not yesterday's price, and probably not tomorrow's, but it was today's). As I was pulling out from the gas station's pitted pavement parking place, I noticed my my "low fuel" light was on and my indicator was down past the "E" into the get-gas-get-it-now-do-not-pass-go-prepare-to-spend-two-hundred-dollars area. STILL.

Now, that's not right {I said to my Self}. And then my car s.s.s.s.s.s.stuttered and did the herky jerk and I thought {to my Self, cuz dude, who else do you think to?}, "if it were gonna happen, best it happen now" and I headed back toward the fix-it dudes. It was touch and go for some time, and I thought I was gonna have to call their tow truck to come get me {and the car} but fear not! for it made it there.

The fix-it dudes put it into their fix-it area and I fell asleep in the waiting area under the magazine rack and awoke to find two small children eye to eye with me (that's not as difficult as you might think what with them having four eyes and me having two; theirs are small). One child was slightly awed, slack jaw and all and the other was solemnly slurping on a lollipop. After it became clear that they thought I was the troll guarding the magazines, I granted their request for Hot Rodz in Hot Dames (hey, parental discretion is not my duty when the parents are staring at me stupidly) or whatever the glossy was called.

Looooong story somewhat shorter, I was home about noon with instructions to return with the car on Monday morning cuz dude, chittichittiBANGbang I am not.