So, Mate and I got to bed at one in the morning, following Christmas prep, and then, BAM! 3:30 a.m., we were up again. I dropped Mate off at the airport, from which he’ll fly to San Diego where Chicken is going to pick him up and promptly return him, so she can have some company home.
So when I got behind the wheel of the minivan, it was 4:30 in the morning, and I had 20 miles worth of gas. Anyone who had been near the Sacramento airport can tell you that it’s at least ten miles from any useful gas station.
I found one in Natomas, and wearily, DYING for coffee, tried to pump gas.
No gas would go.
I tried again, staring stupidly at the pump like it would grow a mouth and explain why no gas would go.
The pump said nothing.
I went inside and asked the clerk, who said, “Let me ring it up here. How much do you need?”
“Uh… I dunno, how much is cheap gas?”
He gave me the number.
“So what’s that times 19?”
We both regarded each other in horror. Holy fucking GOD, we had to do MATHS at FUCK-YOU IN THE MORNING?????
I rounded up one and carried the two and blurted out “$45!” and he made it so.
And I went back and NO GAS GO.
So I went back into the station, and the clerk smiled sheepishly. “Uh… I’m sorry. We just opened. I have a note here that says the truck will get here in an hour. We don’t have any gas right now. Here’s your refund.”
“Yeah, uh, sorry.”
“I’ll take the bottled Starbucks iced coffee. Thanks. Have a better day.”
I got gas about a block down and made my way home. Got to bed around six-thirty after doing some work at the computer and set my alarm for 10:30. My stepmom called at 9.
And laughed at me. “You’re still in bed? Don’t you have kids?”
“Whargarble! Planes and automobiles at fuck-you o’clock!”
“Oh… well how would you and Mate like a present of a train ride?”
There was more conversation, and I reset my alarm for 11.
It all seemed to make sense you see– you can sleep on the train.