Scoot Commute

I had to take the Fit to Lowes tonight and…

Posted in Honda Fit by sbahn on 2010/05/08

Erik had run the gas down to the lighted gas pump icon so I stopped at the Mobil on the way to Lowes. I pulled into the lot after passing a sweet late 70s/early 80s Honda with fully kitted rider and passenger, and immediately it struck me: what side is the gas cap on? I don’t know. Luckily there were no other cars at the gas station and I pulled up on the driver’s side based on the assumption “Don’t all cars have the gas tank on the driver’s side? Would make sense to me.”

Whew, I was right. I get out of the car and put my credit card through the reader. I stared at the cap covering the gas tank. “How do I open that?” I thought. I flipped it back and then stared at the black plastic covering to the tank. “Hmmm, it has a little plastic leash. That’s smart. Oh look, it has a hook to hang it on the flap door. Those Japanese engineers…always thinking.”

I pressed the octane level and pulled out the pump handle. I put it into the gas tank opening and then watched the pump numbers. It kept going and going. “I wonder if it will stop automatically or I’ll have to estimate.” At this point a woman in a black Jeep-type SUV pulled up behind me. As she got out, a Providence police car pulled in. The shoes on the woman! I thought maybe the cop was going to arrest her for solicitation, they were that bad.

Back to the pump. 8 gallons…8.2 gallons. “How much gas does this car hold?” I wondered to myself. “Should I stop it or will it stop by itself? Man, I wish I could remember how car gas tanks worked!” After 9 gallons the pump clicked off. “Ahh, ok, I thought it would, but I wasn’t so sure.”

I have to say it must be years since I put gas in the Fit. Even though it’s my car, I have only driven it about 5 days over the winter. Erik takes it to work occasionally, especially if it’s going to rain heavily. And he always gasses it up, because really, I’m from New Jersey originally. And I don’t like to pump gas. When I had my 100 mile miserable commute, I would get off 495 in Milford Massachusetts because a town ordinance required gas stations to have attendants pump gas. Mere car drivers could not. And the price was the same, so why should I get dirty and weathered-upon when I could sit in the comfort of my car and sing my request: Fill it up!


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