Well, mostly true. I changed my wife’s name from Shannon to Gladys to protect her anonymity. And I changed some of the details of the story in a desperate attempt to enhance the humorous effect. But the pics were not altered in any way. Oh, wait, that’s also not true. I cropped them. Anyway, here we go with a semi-true story featuring altered pics that happened last weekend.

I didn’t wake up that day to settle any arguments over the existence of a Deity or the propensity of that Deity to personally intervene in our everyday banal existences. I got up to take my wife to the local urgent care facility. She was experiencing some serious back and leg pain post-COVID. I could have fixed her up with the same opiods that the so-called “doctor” prescribed, but somehow that medical degree carried more weight with my wife than my doctorate in street savvy.

She was still in pain when I left her. “Babe, I know you’re hurting, but I gotta run,” I explained. “I’ve got a luncheon to get to. Give me a sign that you’ll be alright.”

She tried to give me a V for victory sign, but was too weak to raise her forefinger to complete the V sign. But I knew what she meant. I doffed my cap, blew her a kiss (I didn’t want to get too close to catch her back pain disease), and headed to the garage. But before I left, I gave her a parting message. “Oh, and I’m taking your car. Mine’s way low on gas.” She responded by frantically waving her hand with partial V sign at me.

“Shit,” I exclaimed as I started my wife’s car. Her car was low on gas, too. She showed a quarter tank of gas and a 70 mile range. I was staring at a 90 mile round trip. My mind flashed to Ellwood Blues.

Except, something was out of whack.

Continue reading “The Mileage Miracle – A True Story” →