Last night I drive down a 25 mile stretch of road filled with empty gas stations coasting my car into the garage with the needle fluttering at E. Then… I read reports that say there may not be any gas for quite some time. Then… I get up in the morning, call a local gas station who still has gas and get ready to fill er up. Then… I walk to my car to see two flat tires. Then… I proceed to tell my boss I can’t come in but realize I have an important meeting I cannot miss. Then… I bumble over to a gas station, fingers and toes crossed (and FYI, a car on negative E with two flats? It drives funny). Then… I stop at the end of a mile line and watch folks fill up SUVs and multiple gas cans because who cares if the rest of the world runs out of gas as a direct result of your hoarding, at least you will be okay. Then… as I finally pump gas, sigh with relief at the sight of an air pump where I can fill my tires, and be done with the drama that is my car, I hear a plunk and watch my passenger side rear view mirror go for the gold and dives to the floor.
Murphy, I hate you.