Thursday, June 7, 2012

Aunt Laura and I borrow a Camaro

Once upon a time my ex brother in law bought a cool car and he was generous enough to let all of his favorite people drive it. His sons could drive it pretty much whenever they wanted. But he also had some family friends who had kids and he let them drive the car also. One weekend the hubs and I were visiting and people were taking turns driving the car and at one point in the evening Aunt Laura and I decided to make a run into a nearby town so we asked if we could take the cool car out for a spin, too. We got permission, fluffed our hair, let the top down and off we went.
Things were going great, the wind was blowing, we looked really cool, the music was good and we were having a great time. We were pretty close to our destination when the car started sputtering. “Oh great” we thought. That kind of stuff always seemed to happen to us when we were together. Before we had a chance to really start worrying the car stopped running altogether. It turns out that the gas tank was empty. All of the teenagers enjoyed driving it but they failed to put gas in the thing and Aunt Laura and I never thought to look at the gas gauge.
So there we were, sitting on the side of the highway, at NIGHT, with a cool car that had no gas. What were we to do? Did we leave the car and risk having something happen to it? Did one of us hike to a gas station and the other stay with the car and both of us risk being killed by a deranged highway killer? We already knew that we were going to be dead once we finally got the car home and had to admit that we let it run out of gas – possibly damaging the fuel pump. Shit fire and save matches! We were in a pickle!

We finally made the decision to walk to the gas station together. That way, if the highway killer tried to pick us up, we could put some kung-fu terrified helpless freak out moves on him and potentially kill him. We started our trek (in high heels) and I have to admit, we were scared. It’s not comfortable walking beside a highway when cars are zooming past and on the other side of you, there are woods full of killer animals and a potential highway killer hiding. You tend to get a bit wigged out. After a few minutes a car slowed to a stop and Aunt Laura and I looked at each other like ‘this is it.’ A nice couple offered us a lift and we had a tough choice to make. Did we accept the lift and possibly get kidnapped even though it went against everything our parents ever taught us? All kids are always taught to never ever accept rides from strangers and yet there we were, considering doing just that. The couple looked to be in their mid 50s, they had a cross hanging from the rear view mirror, and another on the bumper and gospel was playing softly on the radio. They were very nicely dressed and didn’t look like killers so we made the decision to accept the ride.
I’m sure we jabbered the entire ride to the gas station because we were relieved/nervous and the people were just as nice as could be. They didn’t try to kidnap us or kill us or use us for a sacrificial offering for the Church of Satanical Body Parts Worshipers of Greater Arkansas. They simply gave us a ride, blessed us and drove away.
We got a relative to bring a gas can so we could put some gas in the car and once we filled the thing full, we abandoned whatever it was we had driven to town for in the first place and drove straight back home. We were very scared to return the car to it’s owner because we figured he’d be pretty mad at us since we had been gone for so long. And because we let it run out of gas. Sure enough, he was mad. Very mad. But eventually he got over it (I think). I must admit, I never drove that car again. I never drove any car of his again. I never drove anything he had again. I never used anything he owned again. I think it was about a year after that, the hubs and I divorced. And while he and I remain on speaking terms and are actually friends now, the owner of the car I drove and ran out of gas in, refuses to speak to me. I don’t think running out of gas in his car is the reason he doesn’t speak to me, but I’m sure it didn’t help things.
As for Aunt Laura and I go, we don't get to have as many adventures as we used to but we're still friends (thank GAWD).  Luckily we haven't been on any excursions where we've run out of gas in a borrowed car. Although, we did take a train ride which resulted in her getting stuck in a train car that had doors that wouldn't open. We're like the disaster sisters. The cloud of disaster hovers around just waiting for us to appear together so calamity can rain down. But I don't mind too much because it always makes for a good story and funny memories.


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