Remember to have a full tank of gas when a storm is coming

I usually am surprised by whatever happens in the world, especially what happens to me.

It’s not that I don’t try to prepare sometimes. For example, I have umbrellas in my car for unexpected rain. But they are for small showers, not for the heavy waves of water falling from the sky like on Thursday night.

I had checked the weather and saw that the forecast for the weekend called for unbelievably hot weather. Worse than the way it was Thursday, I thought? When I went outside, it felt like someone had wrapped an electric blanket around me.

The forecast said storms were possible, but it says that a lot and nothing happens. I couldn’t really think of anything to do to beat the heat except stay inside in the air conditioning which I didn’t want to do. So I went to some shops and ran some errands. When I came outside, it had turned dark. I looked in the sky to the northwest, where it looked like doom was approaching.

I got in my car and drove right into the darnedest rainstorm I had seen for a while. Pretty soon I was driving through large puddles and around fallen tree branches.

The radio warned me to stay off the road. The wind was whipping but I wasn’t particularly worried until I remembered I was almost out of gas.

When I started my errands, I thought I should fill up. But then I thought, as I always do, maybe later, on my way home. The gauge was still above empty, slightly. Why worry? Or prepare?

Now it was pouring rain and I decided to pull into a gas station and try to fill up. Unfortunately it also was blowing heavy sheets of rain and the station canopy offered little protection.

The pump didn’t want to take my credit card, due to the heavy rain apparently, so I drove to another station. That pump accepted my card but it only gave me nine cents worth of gas.

I figured that 0.035 of a gallon would get me the mile to home. If I ran out of gas, at least I would be closer to home.

I made it and was sitting in my car, waiting for the rain to end when it occurred to me to just go inside. After all, I was already soaked. What was a little more rain going to do? I splashed my way through some deep puddles to the basement where the cats recoiled in horror from the wet mess invading their space.

Before any relief could set in, I realized I had left my phone in the car. So I had to go back out into the cold rain and get it. Better wetter still than not having my phone if my wife, who was over on the farm in Missouri, tried to call me.

After some dry clothes and toweling off, I felt better. The rain had slacked off to a mist and the sky put on an impressive lightning show. I apologized to the cats by getting them a fish dinner after I went back out and found some working gas pumps nearby.