Deadmeat

Dateline: 21st Febuary 2005

SWMBO asked to borrow my car so she could take the children to a bike track for some exercise. She wanted me to go too... the family thing... but my physio says not to ride bikes whilst my L4-L5 disc is giving me trouble... which annoys SWMBO to no end.

She was meeting another family at the rendezvous. I fitted the bike rack, pumped up the tyres, checked the bikes over, adjusted seat heights for growing children, and parked it all ready for her. Regardless, she’s running late. SWMBO is a woman who always finds something to do at the last minute so she’s always running late. I say to her, as she’s leaving, “Don’t worry about the fuel light; it’s low but not that low” She gives me one of those wife-type-looks that reduces husbands to mere-moron-level instantly and drives off. I settle upstairs with a fresh coffee and start up my PC to practice in a game of BF1942 for tonight’s ladder match.

The coffee’s cold beside me right now.

Before I could fire up the game, the phone rings: “Hello?”

“Idiot*, the car’s broken down right in the middle of Wahroonga!”

“Oh dear”

“I think its run out of petrol, and I’m on a hill blocking the traffic”

“Oh Dear”

Silence. (Treat this silence as a guilt type silence, I did)

“Ok, um, I’ll be there right away with some petrol”

“Well you better; I am so annoyed”

“Be right there” I was going to add “Don’t go anywhere” but I caught myself just in time. A rummage through the garage reveals the chainsaw jerry-can with some leaded fuel and a bit of oil… 2-stroke. About 2 litres of a five litre can. It’s too much to top up at the service station and too little to get the car started and too much to tip out. I’ll have to risk it and pour it into the tank and hope it's enough.

I arrive at the scene. Its cold for this time of year, but the weather is fine. The source is an icy stare from a very frosty wife. Without ado I pour the fuel into the tank. No go, not enough on this hill to pump up to the motor. I get the children out, and with the aid of a passer-by, we push it up the hill out of the way for now. I advise SWMBO that I’ll be back ASAP with more petrol, she reminds me that our friends are still waiting to be met, they don’t have a mobile phone (WTF?) and it’s coming up to an hour late. There’s one problem tho. I am only buying about $5.00 worth of fuel. I don’t have any cash. The servo won’t accept cards or eftpos under $15.00. So, humbly, I ask SWMBO for some cash to put petrol in my car that I said wouldn’t run out of petrol. I am sure the cash didn’t like being in such an awkward position, I think it would prefer to be in a bank robbery.

I return as the saviour, albeit, ego bruised so the glory can’t be enjoyed, top up the tank, it starts first go, children board, SWMBO drives off leaving me standing in the street smelling like petrol, holding the can and wondering what is install for me after they return home.

So, TOG Cobra Squad on the BF1942 competition ladder: I may be wifed tonight and not be able to make the game.