A Story About Gas

This morning was not a good one. A graveyard of discarded skirts lay on my bed, and yet I still looked like crap. I didn't have time to put on any makeup beyond the requisite blush and concealer. I even forgot to slice up olives for my salad!

When I finally ran out the door, I remembered. Gustav the BeetleBugCar's gas alert beep had been beeping shrilly and insistently the entire way home last night.

Fuck, says I to that. Fuck.

So, off I went to the gas station, where I pulled up to the pump and breathlessly requested: "Fill it up! With Regular! Please!" The attendant smiled gamely and strode off to do my bidding, and I sat back in my seat and sighed contentedly, confident that all was at last well in the world.

Then, I reached into my wallet to pull out my trusty credit card, and found only a sad blank slot in its usual spot.

Fuck, once more. But a bigger Fuck this time.

I popped from the car like a jack-in-the-box on speed and ran to catch the attendant. "Wait! Can you make it ten dollars??? I forgot my credit card!"

He nodded and obliged, so I gave him my ten bucks and sped off.

But, I have to wonder--what would have happened if I HADN'T caught him? Or if I HADN'T had ten bucks in my wallet? Would they have held me prisoner until someone could come bail me out? Would they have hauled me across the street to the police station? Would they have made me give them my thumb?