And I didn't even get gas

I spent four hours waiting in line to get gas tonight. The woman in front of me let about a dozen people in line and the gas station closed at 10, with me just about a dozen cars from the pump. If I were a violent woman I would have rammed her car.



These lovely young women were from IHOP. They and people from Wendy's and Fatz Cafe walked along the line offering free drinks and sandwiches for sale. I took some water, but I was sorry after another three hours in the car with no access to a rest room.

So, now I'm cruising on fumes, as are many, many other people here in Western North Carolina.

I did bring stuff to keep me occupied -- I crocheted two pieces for the bedspread I'm making and I listened to "The Last Campaign," the book about Robert Kennedy's presidential campaign in 1968.

As I was sitting there, I kept thinking about the long gas lines in the 1970s. I never waited four hours then, though, and I always drove away with at least a half tank of gas.

I still think I should get a scooter. 100 miles per gallon sounds good about now, even though it comes with a top speed of 35 and I have to keep to secondary roads.