Nostalgia aside, we make our way into the gas station where I fill and top off the fuel tank well aware it’s more than enough to get home but not taking any chances.
Grab a few more drinks as I’m still dying of thirst after our enjoyable 2 mile push along interstate 10 in Arizona when it’s about 85°.
My wife looks me in the eyes and softly asks if I could drive the rest of the way home. She was very tired and sore from our misadventure (as was I).
I loved her dearly still on those days so I obliged her and she slept the remaining hour plus until we arrived home. Singing as I always did when I drove soothing her as she rested. It was another of our misadventures that I would never soon forget…
I cranked up my favorite playlist and saying all the way home while she rested peacefully in the passenger seat, our current adventure and misadventure at an end.
After I recover, I get up and help her up, grabbing the full gas can we hike the quarter mile back to our car.
Closing in, we see a state trooper is parked behind our car. We get to the car and I pour gas into the gas tank as my wife speaks to the trooper who promptly chuckles and leaves. As I start the car my wife, looks at me and again says “It looked so close didn’t it” and I sighed and replied to her “Those signs that read the exit as 2 miles away never lie but our eyes can and do”. She shrugs, shakes her head, and puts on her seatbelt as do I and we make our way to the gas station off the interstate.
Now for anyone keeping score that’s a grand total of three times in two weeks we ran out of gas. Two weeks before it had been twice in the same day where my wife had gambled and lost twice on that day…
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
We rotated giving each a short rest as pusher and steerer alternated. I never looked at the speedometer but know we were travelling at 1 mph or lest because it took us two hours to get to the exit. Unfortunately, the exit ran steeply uphill, so we were forced to leave the car off the interstate for the remaining quarter mile so we could hike down to the gas station.
Both of us very rough for the ware get to the gas station and get a gas can and pay for a gallon of gas. We also both use the restroom and purchase and gulp down several Gatorades each. I think I was wearing some of what I drank and frankly I didn’t care. Then we sat for a few minutes on the sidewalk to catch our wind. I let out a yelp as I experience a double-Charlie-horse in my right and left calves and hamstrings.
The feeling of steel bale wire tightening continues as I do all I can to straighten the muscles and release their vice like group when they finally let go and I gently site back down rubbing my legs.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
My car refused to restart as the tank was bone dry. This is where the story gets funny, I suggest we call Road Assistance and my wife denies it and says to me “look you can see the gas station it’s not that far away”, I realize in horror of her ideas for the situation.
On the side of the Interstate with cars zooming by at 70+ MPH, I was a little nervous to be pushing this car along the shoulder not to mention I weighed in about 340 lbs. (with an A1C of about 12) in those days and my wife was not in the best of shape either.
At her insistence we’d take turns pushing and steering the car for the two miles to the exit. I cannot imagine what motorists thought of as this portly man (Mua) breathing hard and coughing as he pushes this hulk down the interstate at about 1 mile per hour or so.
I’d get so tired I’d push the card as fast as I could and then just let it roll and walk up to it and do it again. This created the illusion that I was doing less work which of course was not true.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
We collect ourselves and my car and we begin make our back to the interstate ultimately heading east and back home to Arizona.
Swapping one desert for another, we come up on a nearby gas station and there’s a long line. My wife doesn’t want to wait plus gas was way cheaper in Arizona (it still is by the way) so she wants to get gas closer to home across the state line. I reluctantly agree recollecting the two recent occasions a we’d ran out of gas in the van.
We crank up the music and sing as we head directly into the sun as it’s rising brilliantly in the east we are travelling toward. Traffic is light as are our moods with my big win earlier and the music. After we cross back into Arizona, there is a beep in my car as there is 20 miles left in the take (according to the digital cluster).
We make our way further and I suggest that we exit at the next gas station and top off the tank. This is immediately rejected disregarded by my suddenly irritated wife who wants to move further east.
I again reluctantly agree thinking again of the two times we ran out of gas just a couple of weeks prior. What choice did I have, if I pushed further, she’d turn on me. We come up on Pahrump and see an exit two miles and change away.
This is where we will finally get gas, that is where the car decides that it is out of gas, right then and there. The gage showed 10 miles but apparently those were used up.
The car sputters and slows as the engine stalls out!!!!
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
Five minutes go by then my wife moves over to the machine next to me. I smile and I cherish the time as it’s worth more than all of the monies inside of these gambles. I robotically press “Repeat Bet” buttons (on the aforementioned Caveman Keno game) to bet faster and faster hoping to flush out that elusive jackpot when, it happens.
I watch in slow-motion as 1,4,6,8,9 then 10 out of 10 of my numbers hit, 10,000 nickels or $500.00! I hoot and holler my wife screams and we hug (an unexpected but pleasant surprise and rarity). To cap it off, I order some drinks for us from the waitress and I and I hand over my nights remaining bankroll to my wife. This was no big deal since I had $500 sitting in my machine anyway and it would give her a chance to play more.
My Long Island Iced Tea and her cranberry vodka arrive fairly quickly as is customary in most reputable casinos. We play and play and pay and play hours pass and it’s now 7:00 am. We decide to call it quits, and happily, I pull $250.00 out of the machine. This was more than double what I had brought with me, making the evening a success.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
Making our way through the endless labyrinth of endless gambling devices and tables, we finally arrive in our favorite part of the casino jaded with shimmering nickel, penny, quarter and other denominations just waiting to take your money.
We make our way to the nickel keno machines which have moved and migrated a lot since we first graced this casino with our money a couple of years prior. We each have our favorite games.
She likes Cleopatra Keno where if the last number hits one of your numbers and surpasses a minimum to win you receive 12 free games with all payouts doubled. I like this game as well and have played it many times before and since. I sit a couple of machines over playing a keno variation of Caveman Keno I like where if the bonus eggs hit the payouts can double or even quadruple.
I set denomination to 0.05 and pick my numbers (patterned in the upper northwest quadrant of the board). I set the speed to fast and bet my usual max bet of 12 nickels a pop. I push the button and away we go. Boring as keno of any kind can be, it is all we can afford with our microscopic budget. Besides, we’ve won from time to time on these machines and anything $50 or more from a 0.40 to 0.60 bet is a nice return on investment.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
We arrive at our destination and park letting valet take our car. Exiting the car, it’s about 11:30 PM and gentle fingers of cool desert night air greet us as we make our way inside.
We first stop at the smoke shop as my wife likes a little gambling with her cigarettes. She always gets a few packs of Native American cigarettes that neither of us have ever heard of but they are at least cheap.
Before we begin our ritual of monetary destruction. we head to the player’s club kiosk as we both lost our cards. Now before you hit me up with “Waste of time” or “they track your play and spy on you blah blah blah…” I’m going to say that they are way more worth their weight in gold and the hassle. Thanks to using those pesky cards, I basically haven’t paid for a standard hotel room in Vegas, San Diego, or Laughlin, NV in nearly 5 years now. Plus, there are a lot of freebies too.
One night a year before at the same Casino they called my name out of a drawing resulting in $500 in free-play. We make our way through the lines fairly quickly, but not quick enough for my wife.
Before I know it, my wife trips over metal corded line queue designators knocking them all down and face planting it. There was a loud clank as they all feel with her. This was a nasty spill even by my standards (king klutz that I am). I rush to her aid shooing away the gawkers and making sure she’s ok and helping her up. She looks at me with serious eyes and relief that I didn’t laugh at her. Something, she had done at my countless falls and spills in the past. I knew she was embarrassed and so I protected her as best I could.
She’s ok and I the metal cords up. I put my arm around her waist and guide her gently through the Casino triple checking that she was ok and making the same light joke I always make when I fall “At least you stuck the landing”.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.
It’s a Friday night around 9:30 PM and my wife whispers “I’m feeling froggy” in my left ear. This is a code that she wants to join me for some kind of gambling adventure away from everyone else in the house. It had been a while since we’d done anything alone together. So, I agree and get ready thankful that I hadn’t had my edibles yet. I throw on some cologne and deodorant and a shirt jeans and shoes and meet her at the base of the stairs. Since the chaotic move to Arizona with a total of 9 people it’s been far from easy and we had lost each other a lot after. She offers to her parents that we “are off to Walmart to shop and will be back very late”.
We get into my red Ford Focus zoom car and she’ll be driving (lest I hear her complain about my driving until we reach our destination). We make a mad dash and are off in a flash to our favorite California casino. It’s 2019 pre-COVID and we’ve moved from Southern California to south Central Arizona. The drive will take close 2 hours each way as luckily the Casino we like is located in far Eastern California near Desert Hot Springs. We enter the narrow two-lane highway and head through several others in the true darkness that only the desert can oblige. No lights barely reflectors on the road guiding our every move. As we reach the interstate, we head west at a feverish pace with my wife’s lead foot. As we journey closer to our destination, she has her own game of Pole Position evidently racking for the high score. I can hear that voice “Prepare to Qualify”. I cherish these moments as they were the rare exception (other than sleep) that we had a few moments together alone.
We catch up on, well pretty much everything. Light idle conversations at first making their way to more important issues. Good things bad things issues with the kids the house my father-in-law and his health issues. It’s sad that these rare moments are all we get anymore. I always tried making the most of these occasions as everyday life diverted my wife’s attention away most of the time. So, these moments were like Christmas at age 9 with a tree full of presents. Getting at least closer to the same page in those moments was the closest to happy that we’d ever be, I think.
Ok digression over, the music plays we sing laugh tell jokes and pass the 2-and-a-half-hour drive rather quickly. These were like the good old days (earlier in our life together) when we lived in north Texas and made our way to Oklahoma and the casinos housed along interstate 35 there. I cherished those times as they were few and far between back then as well. How did we lose each other? It’s hard to say, this little getaway was one of the last ones we’d have save a few in the COVID years to come, despite the challenges we’d face on our return to Arizona.
Tune in next time for the continuing saga of: Out of Gas, Again and Other Misadventures.