Out of Gas, Out of Sight

From Otto:

I was driving home from a late night shift one Sunday evening when my car ran out of gas. The location was the Ewa-bound lanes of the Moanalua Freeway, about a quarter mile before the off ramp to Moanalua Valley. The nearest gas station I could walk to was the Chevron station at the Salt Lake Shopping Center. So I walked that long lonely road to the gas station on that chilly moonlit evening. It seemed like forever before I reached the station to fill up my gas can and I was exhausted! The walk back to the car was worse because the gas can felt heavier with every step I took.

A few hours later (or so it seemed) I was approaching the freeway overpass when I saw a lone car drive slowly past me. Immediately, I recognized the big brown tanker as the one belonging to Peter. “PETER! PEEEETER!!!” I yelled, frantically waving my arms in the air hoping to get his attention. The guy must have been cruising at 10 mph! “PETER! PETER!?… PETER?” My hopes were dashed as I watched his car drive off into the darkness of Moanalua Valley. “That idiot! How can he not see me?” I muttered to myself. I’m the only guy on the road for miles. And what was he doing, looking for toads to avoid? I eventually made it back to my car and got home before daylight. But if Peter had any ounce of kindness in his heart, he would have stopped to offer assistance and I would have been home in no time at all. Lesson learned: never run out of gas.