On our recent drive to Rhode Island, the gas gauge hit empty.
And then we drove 38 more miles without ever seeing another gas station.
If you think waterboarding is a form of torture, you should have watched my husband’s face during that 38 miles.
I really wasn’t concerned at all. I told Rick that when the gas gauge dips to empty, you really have 50 more miles worth of gas.
Honestly, I think I probably made that up. But that’s my rule of thumb.
You see, my husband grew up in New Jersey where for some reason it’s illegal to pump your own gas. I think it’s called the, “I’m Too Damn Lazy To Get Out of My Car” legislation.
But I, on the other hand, grew up in hard core Connecticut, where you often have to pump it yourself. That’s why Connecticut folk are used to driving as far as possible without actually stopping. It’s called the, “I’m Not Stopping For Gas Because It’s Too Cold or Too Hot Outside and I Don’t Want To Get Out of My Car” mentality.
As a result, I know you can drive really far on empty. So I wasn’t worried. At all.
But my cushy Jersey husband was stressing.
“Why are there no gas stations in Rhode Island?!!” he kept shouting out.
“I don’t know. But on the upside, they have lots of fried clams,” I responded. He surprisingly did not find this very helpful.
We finally found a gas station.
Which judging from the prices it was advertising was last open during the great depression.
“Why would a gas station look open if it’s closed?” My husband yelled out.
“I don’t know. But man, do I love fried clams.”
We finally finally found a gas station. That was actually open.
A really shame. Because we could have squeezed 12 more miles out that gas tank. I just know it.