riverECHO

How did I forgot to include this short story in the last blog about our eventful drive down to Taos? Jean quickly reminded me after reading it that I left out one of the funniest parts of the day. It wasn’t so funny at the time. We pulled into the only gas station between Laramie and Cheyenne in a small town called Buford. The signs posted 85: $3.25/gallon — “not to bad,” I thought. I jumped out of the car into the piercing rain and chilling wind, claiming “I’ve got this one,” and BJ headed in to the bathroom as Jean took the dogs on a short walk. I finished fueling, jumped back in the car, and my head immediately started to spin. Not from nausea, but from stupidity. A few four letter words began escaping my mouth as I studied the pump (from left to right and expensive to cheap: diesel-$4.29, 89-$3.79, 87-$3.69, E-85-$3.19) for more clues about what “E-85″ truly was. BJ returned and I quickly asked him if he knew what the E stood for in E-85 . . . “Economy, right? Because it’s the cheapest one?” I said. He didn’t seem to know either but quickly busted out his data phone to get some real answers. Then Jean hopped in the car and saw my distraught did-I-just-ruin-the-car and are-we-ever-going-to-make-it-to-Taos-now face. None of us had any answers, but we agreed on one thing–I better go in and fess up to the clerk before we start driving and blow up on our way to Cheyenne. BJ joined me in telling the clerk “Um, I think I may have just put the wrong type of gas in my car.” She smiled, as did one of the customers in the store, and both assured us, in a tone that was much less demeaning than I expected or deserved, “Nah, don’t worry, just fill up with regular gas next time. It’ll just affect your gas mileage a little bit.” We laughed as we walked back to the car in the now pouring rain, shared our story with Jean, and got on the road. No harm done but lesson learned.