There I was, happily chugging through town on the way to work with a grin on my face, when Olivia sighed. I pulled over and revved her, and she was OK. A half-kilometre down the road she sighed again. This time I headed down a side street to check things out, as I don't fancy being stuck in the middle of commute traffic on a road with no shoulder space and taxis speeding by!
Well, in the process of checking things, I tapped the fuel guage. And, instead of the wonderful fuel consumption I had been getting, the just over quarter tank that should last me another two days, the guage plummeted and hit zero.
Well I trundled back slowly toward town (mostly in neutral, to the irritation of a gold-bedecked woman in a BMW behind me that obviously had a fuller tank than I did), parked up behind the library, drew a few bucks half way through town, and walked to the end of Main Road to get a couple of litres of petrol. The only other fuel stop in town seems to be closed for repairs. From there it was home to phone work and tell them I'm on my way (cellphone is currently not happy) - and then back to the petrol station to feed the hungry beast once more.
On to work, slowly. The less petrol I burn the better... which is a mission with the hills I have to conquer daily.
Olivia's called the "petroldief" (petrol thief) by Favourite Man. Today it's a name she definitely deserves.