Gassed

So the boy and I were out cutting firewood the other day and I was sawing along and looked up and this guy was standing there wearing a T-shirt and I thought it was odd that the Forest Service would check a permit with a plain clothes officer.

I shut the saw off.

“My truck ran out of gas,” the guy explained. “I’m on my way to a wedding down the road and was wondering if you’d have any.”

“Sure,” I said.

We walked back to the truck and I held up the chainsaw gas can, it had maybe a quarter of a gallon in it.

“This should get you down the road to the gas station,” I said.

I handed him the can.

The gas station wasn’t far away, maybe two-three miles, tops.

The guy was in luck. He said the wedding started in 15 minutes.

He quickly explained his significant other was in the truck and she wasn’t too happy.

Mixed fuel for chainsaws, which has two cycle oil in it, is fine for cars. In fact, it’s a good way to get rid of old mixed fuel.

The guy took off and then came back with a full gas can for me, sans two cycle oil, of course.

He rushed off to his wedding. I got a quick glance at the S.O. Yep, she wasn’t too happy. He said the gauge showed a quarter of a tank, before the truck left them stranded.

It all worked out. I felt for him.

Years ago one of my best friends got married. I can’t remember why, but we were severely late for it. Thankfully I wasn’t in the wedding party, so we snuck in the back and went up in the balcony of the church.

It was perfect, because the ceremony ended and they walked down the aisle just as we took our seats.

My buddy asked if we made it.

“Oh yes,” I said. “It was beautiful.”

I hope this fella had a balcony to hide in, but based on the direction he was going, I couldn’t think of a church in that direction, but perhaps there was a grove of trees to hide in. There’s no shortage of them around.