A wise friend in Colorado has a great profundity he likes to spout when faced with a difficult decision: When you come to a fork in the road, Take it!
And so it was late last night, as I was driving up I-81 in Southern Virginia in 20-something degree weather and suddenly looked down at my gas gauge to see it almost empty. The gas light was on, I had no idea for how long. The bankrupt needle was leaning to the far left (no pun intended, no really) and I realized I had to get off at the next exit or risk the ordeal of calling AAA or the highway patrol.
Then I saw the exit up ahead with a sign for the only gas station in sight:
.....citgo......oh dear.
A fork in the road. But would I, should I, could I take it? Buying gas from Hugo or risk most certainly running out?
Ahhh, when you see a fork in the road, take it! I went through a mental lock down. Did I have warm clothes on and more in the car? Check. Gloves in the front seat? Check! Leftover peanuts with M&Ms floating around the front seat and few more on the floor? Check. Water? Check. My cell phone? Check. And my little travel Bible and some sensational poetry for inspiration for whatever else might happen on this dark upon darkest winter night? Check.
I had enough to take the right fork! Yes, yes that fork and drive on drove on! On through the wind! On through the rain! AND I'LL NEVER DRIVE ALONE! NO, I'LL NEVER DRIVE ALONE!
No way was I buying anything from Hugo at no time, know what I mean?
But would I make it to the next exit? I drove on, on a wing and a prayer.
And then.... then.... in a few minutes I saw it. ..... A shining exit on a hill. With a lite-up gas station. Brighter than a Christmas tree! A CHEVRON gas station. Whoopee! I was going to make it! It was pedal to the medal! And so all ended well on that cold and windy night in Virginia.
I filled up shivering and thankfully, very thankfully drove on.
But, gentle reader, there's a moral to this story. I hope you'll forgive my indiscretion in giving it to you bluntly, as in less than subtle terms. I warn you, it's not very lady-like. But I consider it my patriotic duty. I did my part and took one small step of protest, one small step forward for mankind. And that I might encourage you also to do yours in whatever small ways you can, as Dr. Helen has also suggested in going John Galt. So along with turning off the MSM tellie and lots of other ideas, here's my suggestion to add to the list:
And now, you know.......the rest of the story.....
This post is dedicated to the friend I met on I-81 two-and-a-half years ago, who shall remain anonymous....except to that friend. What a trip!
Good for you!!! remember:
ReplyDeleteCITGO,
Hugo Loco,
Gringo no go!
Awesome!!!
ReplyDeleteI love this post! and your dedication and commitment. Happy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteLoved reading and seeing how God cared for you! But mostly, I love YOU for your true character and for not paying HUGO!!
ReplyDeleteI have to admit a similar situation happened to us on a road trip this summer to West Virginia and my hubby filled up at a Citgo station, the only one around! We had my aging parents with us so I tell myself that is why my hubby caved!!! I took photos to show my sis, Jungle Mom, but as of yet, I haven't had the nerve!! What do you think she'll say to me??
I think she'll forgive you because your precious parents were in the car. None of us should ever say ever. But the intention is there for me to avoid CITGO as much as possible.
ReplyDelete