Running on Empty

Since I work from home, I've been fairly sheltered from the gas shortage in Atlanta that appears to have no end in sight. I didn't initially believe Ryan when he called me from work earlier this week, advising that I fill up as soon as possible; the lines at the pumps were snaking into the streets.

I figured I'd wait as long as possible to fill up, hoping the supply once met by pipelines emptied by Ike could be recovered by the time I'd need to replenish my supply.

I recklessly drove to yoga this morning on 3/16 of a tank. Most gas stations I passed resembled an apocalypse movie set. During savasana, the many thoughts I tried to push from my consciousness included, "Where will I find gas?" and, "Will I make it home?"

Fellow students assured me there was gas at the BP just down the road. I attempted to make a stop, but the line was at least 20 cars long, and the cops directing traffic in and around the station were none too friendly. I still had nearly 3/16 of a tank, so I headed home, planning to stop somewhere with slightly shorter lines... if I could find it.

Luckily, I did. I waited only about ten minutes, behind three others cars. Lines had formed behind each side of each pump, so the cars in each line were waiting for both pumps on that side. When I stepped out to swipe my credit card, I noticed that the line I'd quickly shot through had since doubled in size.

I also noticed that a woman had pulled up in front of me, facing me, hoping to bypass the line behind me. I pointed towards her, then towards the end of the line, to indicate that she had to wait on line like the rest of us. She didn't flinch. A hand-scribbled sign adorned the pump urging customers to purchase, at a maximum, eight gallons. I obeyed, and as I took my receipt (surprisingly "cheap" at only $32.99) I again indicated to the woman attentively poised in front of me that she needed to take a number. Again, no reaction. I gave up and pulled away and noticed happily that there was also a car behind me that moved in faster than Ms. Cheater's did. I didn't bother to stay to witness any ensuing drama -- my gas was too precious.

I realize this story is pretty anti-climactic. I just get disappointed when fellow humans behave so selfishly. I'd hope that a common crisis would bring us together, but when it comes down to our basic everyday needs, which in this day and age in a city like Atlanta includes gasoline, it's apparently every woman for herself.