I couldn’t believe it, I had run out of gas. After 15 years I knew my Toyota well. I knew that the needle on the gas gauge could hover in the red zone for miles and miles till it became bored by its own bluff. So, when my car shuddered to a stop in the middle of heavy, downtown traffic, a part of me was impressed. “Good for you,” I thought, “finally following through on a threat.”
I turned on the hazards and called my husband Mark for help. Then I took in my situation. After years of being just a benign driver used to merging in relative peace, I was now that driver. The jackass everyone will want to get a good long look at as they maneuvered past.
The way I saw it, after turning on the hazards and making the call for help there were only 2 options:
1. I could stay in my car and take it like a woman (meaning one who plans to avoid eye contact by playing Words With Friends on her phone.)
2. I could get out of the car and go get Thai food.
Turns out it is easy to avoid eye contact with angry drivers when you are a block away at a strip mall Thai restaurant. As my Toyota flashed apologies on my behalf, I debated my spice preference on a level from 1 to 5 chilies. I used to be a solid 4, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. The idea that I might drop to 3 made me nervous I was having an identity crisis.
Later, holding a paper bag containing an order of pad thai and chicken curry, spice level 3 chilies, I found Mark, holding a bright red gas can next to my car. And he was talking to a police officer.
“Here she is,” Mark nodded to me, relieved.
The female officer was young, her long dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail.
“You’re the driver of this vehicle?” she asked me.
“Yes.”
She looked down at my bag of Thai food, then back up at me.
“Did you leave your vehicle unattended?” she asked, incredulous.
On top of the food bag, a hot and crispy eggroll peeked out from its paper sleeve, but I decided now wasn’t the time to eat it.
“Was I not supposed to?” I said finally..
“You never leave your vehicle unattended!” And now she looked pissed. “I was about to have you ticketed and towed!”
She motioned to the tow truck parked nearby. Behind the wheel the driver was taking an open-eyed nap.
“Get your vehicle off the road now, or I’m having you ticketed and towed!”
“I’ll fill it up,” Mark said, and scurried to over to the side of the car.
“You just can’t run out of gas like this!” said the officer. I nodded to show her I agreed, that one just can’t run out of gas like this. Its is not a good idea. Why would someone do this? It occurred to me that this was the first time I got scolded by someone old enough to be my daughter and it felt very Freaky Friday-ish. I didn’t want my young cop mom to be mad at me, and so I said…
“It was his fault,” I pointed at Mark, “he left me with an empty tank.”
“She’s right,” Mark said quickly, looking up from the gas can, “it was my fault.”
“I don’t care whose fault it is, get your vehicle off the road or I’m going to have you ticketed and towed!”
“I can’t figure out this cap, I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Mark, fiddling with the cap, “I wonder what this little lever thing is for…”
At the top of the bag, the egg roll was getting cold.
“We’re almost out of here,” I promised the officer. Then, stalling for time, I started babbling like we were buddies about how bad game day traffic has become, and how there should be more gas stations near the CU campus when she interrupted me.
“You’re a menace,” she blurted.
I’m a what?
“You’re a menace to the community!”
I was not expecting such…strong language. I must have looked as startled as I felt, because glancing at me she seemed to feel a need to explain.
“Look at all this mayhem you’ve created,” she gestured to the traffic around us.
Menace? Mayhem? I was tempted to move close enough to her to whisper, “mom? Is that you?”
“Okay, I got the cap off!” Mark called out as if he just solved all the sides of a Rubix Cube.
The officer sighed, realizing he hadn’t even started filling the car with gas yet.
“You need to move your car now or….”
I knew what she was going to say next. I was tempted to cut her off by singing the rest of the sentence.
“…I’m going to have you ticketed and towed!” I’d belt out, “Ticketed and towed, ticketed and towed, high ho, ticketed and towed!”
My instinct was that this would be in character for a menace.
As I surveyed my handiwork – the honking, the drivers calculating how late they are going to be to wherever they’re going, I began to think of ways I could show up more as the resident community menace. Something more inspired than just running out of gas. One thing I knew for sure, I would need to change the direction on Thai food spice level. Next time, 5 chilies.
“…I’m going to have you ticketed and towed,” the officer finished.
But by then I was on to her. She was not going to have us ticketed or towed. I reached in the bag for the egg roll. She was not going to because she knew that having us fill the tank and drive off on our own was the quickest way of extracting her life from mine. I know a bluff when I see it.
When I run out of gas Thai food always fills my tank🤪
Menace (as said by the officer) sounds less threatening and more like a compliment. Especially since you knew she was bluffing. Good grief, where is the tolerance anyway?
for sure, something of a compliment to be identified as “menace” Watch out. I’m on the loose!