So last night, my friend and I decided to go adventuring. I didn't feel like sitting here on my computer, so adventuring was going to happen. Onward to Arizona! And we go towards Kingman, which was about 100 miles away. We venture through the Hoover Dam, past a disappointing road block. A pack of wild coyotes roam through the mock parking lot with a view overlooking the dam. We chased them, trying to coax one to be our friend. Mission failed. So we get going again to normal highway speeds.

Oh! A Quarter tank! Better fill up. Wow. This next stop has gas at it...Pierce...Field? Oh well. So we drive down a long road. A long road. I have zero depth perception, so the group of lights I saw from the highway were actually just strung along a long road like Christmas lights on a rooftop. And we finally get to the gas station. The lights are on, but the door is locked. Apparently, they close at 8. And it is 9 at the time. A button is pressed to call for service, but after 10 minutes it is obvious that no one plans on answering. So, we venture to the local bar, a bit up the street on the opposite side. Cold shouldered by a group of drunk locals, we at least find out the gas station won't be open until noon tomorrow.

My gas tank is now a notch above the red line. OK. We can try and make it and if we have to walk to Kingman, 30 miles away from the highway ends, at least we will be that much closer. We had heard that if you don't actually stop you have a better chance of the engine not dying. I blow through a stop sign, making an illegal left turn through traffic I cannot see, hoping no one hits me. I didn't see any headlights, so I figured I was well safe. I was. We were driving quite a ways, when the dummy light comes on. Check Engine. The fuel gauge was a now a notch below empty. Great. And even better, an incline. That always helps when you're running on nothing. Rocking the car back and forth, hoping it would give that little edge, my car was like the little engine that could. And it did.
We made it up the hill and were coasting to freedom! We pulled in to a gas station as I got out, giddy as a schoolgirl, and celebrated not being stranded in Arizona. Fuck you, Pierce Field. Fuck you, Arizona. I may be a moron, but this much I know: don't stop in shitty towns for gas, because they don't have any even if they say they do. And that was my adventure for last night.

I suck at writing stories. I didn't mean for it to be a story, but I wanted to write it down.

[ November 15, 2001: Message edited by: w3rd souljah ]

Maybe I'm just lying in my endless repetition. But that was a fun story. Always go on a full tank to the middle of nowhere. Nowhere is a bad place to be stranded.