Posted by: Jamie Stamm | October 5, 2008

A stroke of luck

Yesterday’s beautiful weather provided the perfect opportunity to explore a new park. So after meeting Jerry for lunch in Chapel Hill, the kids and I headed to Lake Crabtree County Park in Morrisville.

(A quick conversational sidebar from our trip:

Cera: “It must be called Lake Crabtree because they have crabs growing on trees.”

Me: “Maybe … we’ll see when we get there.”

Anthony: “I can’t wait to play with the crabs!”)

So, about one minute into our 10-minute drive to the park, my gas light went on. It took me a while to locate a gas station, and then, as I took hold of the pump, a voice came over an outdoor loudspeaker.

“I apologize ladies and gentlemen, but at this time, we are out of …”

Oh no.

Here I am, 45 minutes from home, with two kids who are completely stoked to go to a new park and nothing but fumes in my tank, and this station is out of gas.

I started to panic. I could feel the sweat beading up on my forehead.

And then the message continued …

“… mid-grade and premium gasoline. We apologize for the inconvenience. I repeat, we are out of mid-grade and premium gasoline, but we still have regular.”

I shoved the pump in my tank and (greedily? selfishly?) filled it to the top.

Crisis averted.

Now, could we please solve this “short-term” gas shortage that’s been going on for weeks? It’s kind of scary.



  1. Oh, no — you reminded me that I needed to fill up today and put it off between each thing I did thinking I would do it later and drove home without getting any gas — I’ll be on fumes big time tomorrow! I hope I don’t run into trouble, too!

  2. That happened to us yesterday on our way to the zoo! When we pulled up to a pump, there was a sign taped to it- we started to panic, but quickly rejoiced when we actually finished reading the sign- they were out of mid-grade and premium. Go figure.

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