I really need gas!

The gas gauge was below the little red empty mark and the dash board digital display read 3 miles until empty. Berating myself for not getting the Expedition filled the day before when gas was 25 cents a gallon cheaper; overnight the cost has increased for whatever  reason. Today, the gas is  $3.89 /gallon.

Sam's gas, like Costco's, always undercuts their gas competitors by .01 or more than the non-club stations.

I exited the freeway toward home deciding to fill up there on the way by and find Sam's Club fuel is a whopping .03 cents cheaper. Missed the turn to go in so circled back. Made a wrong turn and missed the driveway again because I'm on a one way street.

I keep circling the dang station and circle again. Now my gas gauge is below the red arrow and I have 0 miles until empty. I really need gas!

I thought I was turning on the main road but ended up seeing SAM's club behind me now and wondering what the heck has happened to make it switch from one side of the road to another.

I regrouped at a red light and got the car pointed in the right direction. I'm committed now. There are no alternate options at this point and doubt the car would make it.

At the pumps , there are  lines of cars 4 deep. I pulled in behind a mini couper and a Nissan, and lucky for me they only hold 5 gallons of gas apiece and were done in minutes.

My gas cap is on the drivers side so I had to stretch that pump hose over and across and hold it in place with a little hip action while it filled. I was in a gauzy, flowy dress  and had to use both hands to hold the pump nozzle firmly into the tank hole. Of course, I get the only pump nozzle that's slow as molasses and the fill latch doesn't work to make it squeeze free.

A man with a pick up full of  Beagles is behind me and gets out to lean on his cab and water the panting dogs waiting in the sun. A gust of wind whips up my dress , slapping me in the face with it, giving the gas station crowd a little show.  The Beagles start barking at this, bringing attention to my billowing skirt to the dozens of waiting and bored drivers in our little area .

Now I am embattled with the pump, the tension stretched hose that kinks if I don't hold it outward, and my flying dress. I did a quick snatch at the dress mid air and tucked it's hem  between my kness to prevent another northern and southern exposure. 

My  "WHATEVER" face is on- as if apparel flying over my head is commonplace. I scowled at the barking Beagles to silence them, using my mind melding - psychic powers -  their owner  hasn't moved from his leaning position on the truck cab. He has been staring at me too long. I will him to turn around and look at the dogs. Neither scowl nor psychic mind power work.  Apparently I need to practice this more fervently.

I Hope my audience appreciated that my underwear matched my outfit  and that my leg strengthening exercises have paid off by using their iron clenched  hold on the billowing dress with knees and thighs.

I 'd like to think of it as my iconic moment like Marilyn Monroe's famous pose over the grill vent. I'll bet she never had to wrestle with a gas pump. We have one thing in common. . . . We are both blondish!