When J@net Reno was running for governor of Florida, she drove around the state in a big, red pick-up truck. And it wasn't just a pick-up truck the way Ronald Mark Karen was a pick-up truck. It was gi-normous.
QUICK DIGRESSION: Last fall, I had a choice between being run off the road or hitting an orange pylon. (Is that really how you spell it?) I chose the pylon, which put a purely cosmetic dent in the side of my beloved car, the one I negotiated and test drove and set up a payment plan for all by My Big Girl Self. Now that I'm working through the process of banging a big dent out of, well, everything (and I'm no longer saving up to go to Cyprus or for other Big Surprises for Stephen), I'm getting the dent banged out of my car.
So I have a rental car. No, check that. I have a rental Vehicle (it's so big, I think it deserves a capital V). It was the only one the dealership had left, so for the next three days, I'm driving a huge, red, four-door, off-road pickup truck. I actually had to reach *down* for my order from the drive-thru window. The dealership gave me the Vehicle with absolutely no fuel whatsoever in the tank. I was okay with that; I was in a hurry. They said I can bring it back empty. Cool. Whatever.
So, yeah, the cheap gas costs $2.03 here, and V was running on fumes, but I never, ever imagined how much it would cost to fill the gas tank. When the cost reached $50, I cut it off. It wasn't finished filling. It was just a little more than three-quarters full. Oh. My. God. Oh, oh, and I drove it to work, and then to JFK airport for an assignment, and then back to the town where I live, and it's already below half a tank. I didn't drive it more than 60 miles. The implications, in light of our country's oil dependence and the instability of the Middle East, boggle the mind.
Bottom line? We're all going to DIE.