Out of Gas

“That’s all you ever do. Assume. And now we are stuck in the middle of nowhere with no gas. Don’t you know what happens to people in the middle of the desert? Bad things, that’s what. Ever seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre? That’s what’s going to happen to us. I just know it!” She started to cry.
Instead of yelling back, like I wanted to, I got out of the car to wait for the elusive passer-by to help us. Someone had to come by eventually, right?
And as it turned out, someone did. An old gentleman in a beat-up pickup.
“You folks having car trouble?”
“Actually, we ran out of gas.”
“I’ve got gas!” he exclaimed.
He got out and grabbed the gas can from the back of his truck. Just as he was about to hand the can to me, his stupid old man’s feet got in the way. What happened next appeared to happen in slow motion. My saving grace spilt all over Highway 99.
The old man’s face was a giant O of surprise. Then he chuckled, “Wait, now I don’t!”
I began to wonder if anyone would miss him.

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