Deborah Woehr

My husband’s story about his gas tank reminded me of another story. This one is funny, I promise.

I don’t know how many of you were alive during the gas crisis when Carter was President. If you were older than twelve, you may remember seeing news coverage of the cars lined up at the gas stations. Back then, gas siphoning was a big problem because drivers couldn’t fill up their tanks on certain days.

So if you didn’t fill up your car on your day, you were either screwed or decided to screw somebody else.

My father worked nights for a major airline back then. As you know, airports have huge parking lots. One of his colleagues had a motor home at the time. He walked out to the parking lot at the end of his shift and saw a hose protruding out of his tank.

Naturally, the expletives flew out of his mouth as he rushed up to his motor home. Several feet away, he sees this huge puddle of vomit. He looks at it and then at the tank which the hose is protruding from.

The gas tank and the septic tank are right next to each other. Needless to say, he was able to drive himself home that morning.