Gas Light drive

So Jon and I drove up to Salmon Arm this past weekend to spend my Grandpa’s birthday with him, and the drive up was more nail bitting than it needed to be. As gas prices are high enough to rob your kids piggy bank, Jon decided to throw ten bucks in to get us out of the GVRD. When I started to see the signs for Hope, I said to Jon, “You’ll have to pull off into Hope to get gas.” 

Unfortunately, I was on my phone catching up with my sister, and not paying attention when he passed all the Hope exits. He also missed the sign that said, “check your fuel, next gas station in 110km” 

So when I got off the phone, he’s all, “I’m gunna push it until the next fuel station...” and I’m all, “...in an hour and a half, on practically empty?!!?!? You’ll be bloody lucky if we make the next u-turn route and back to Hope!” And the gas light came on, 30km past Hope. 

And my lovely boyfriend in all his infinite positivity, kept rubbing the dash, saying we’d make it.”C’mon old girl, you got this!” I had my BCAA card in one hand, my phone in the other, and every kilometre we got closer, thinking that’d be less we had to walk. 

As a writer, imagine how I felt, hoping beyond hope we’d make it to Hope. The cocky bastard was right, we pulled in on FUMES!! And the rest of the drive felt horribly uneventful, in the best way.