Maybe I should actually rename this: Reason #450 that I love living in the Bible Belt.
Do you ever have this experience? Where you are on your way home from work and your gas light turns on, but you have absolutely no motivation to go fill up? You say to yourself, “I’ll do it tomorrow, on my way to work” (or in my case, on my way to the carpool-pick-up-point).
But then morning comes and you take way too long in the shower and making your coffee, and all of a sudden its 6:45 (yes, AM, I get up EARLY now!!) and you’re running late.
This is what happened to me this morning. I actually had to drive myself this morning, because Bryan called last night to let me know that he was LEAVING at 5am this morning. Not waking up, LEAVING. This is not normal, he just has lots of relatives from Houston staying indefinitely with him, and can’t get any work done in the evenings, thus necessitating early morning work hours at school.
Anyways, there I was on my way to work, and I had no gas. When I say, “no gas” I mean, NO GAS. As dangerous as this was, however, I desperately wanted to get past a few heavily trafficked spots that only get worse the closer it gets to 8:00. So I set off, praying for the best. As I continued driving, the little line that says, “EMPTY!” rose higher and higher above my gas line, and a little sign on my dashboard that says, “REFILL NOW!” began to blink incessantly, as if pleading me to stop being so stupid.
But the minute I got past the bumper-to-bumper sections of highway, I was in a not so good area of Fort Worth. Regardless, I had no choice to pull over.
As a result of living in LA, I am usually pretty careful about where I pull over for gas. After all, in LA this is sometimes a life or death issue. So I was pretty nervous about having to pull over in this “rough patch” of Fort Worth, even at 8 in the morning.
I got out of the car, and immediately laughed. This run-down, sketchy looking gas station, in the middle of the poorest, roughtest section of Ft. Worth, had the Newsboys blaring from their overhead speakers. Inside the window of the station was a Jesus Freak sticker.
As scary as it is hearing “The Breakfast Song” and getting flashbacks to junior high, it was a nice change to hearing “ghetto-make-your-mama-cry” lyrics and worrying about getting shot.
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tess says
Wow its been a wild ride! I just caught myself up on 4 months of your life via blog. I especially enjoyed the long and random video of Mirabelle, the snip-its of So You Think You Can Dance, your Latin translations, the post about me (of course), and your anniversary post…just to name a few. Though I’ve enjoyed the last 3 hrs I think I will keep myself up to date from now on and hey, maybe even call you!
Oh, and relevant to you actual post. I love the breakfast song for some strange and very odd reason. I’m glad it greeted you. Yesterday morning I was listening to some happy loud music in the car, speeding to work, and well…pretty lights came behind me and gave me my first speeding ticket. It made me think of a speeding ticket you got when I was a passenger and we were on hwy 46…hehe.
The Mrs. CoNe says
Wow, forget hwy 46, do you remember the truck/softball practice incidents??
Your first ticket, I’m proud of you:)
seattlitelarsens says
Yay for softball/truck incidents! I remember those quite vividly – probably because they were so traumati-, I mean, MEMORABLE. Haha. It was a glorious symbol of the true meaning of “Honeycutt time”. 🙂