On Wednesday my car ran out of gas.
In the Wendy's drive-thru.
At the pick-up window.
As my car sputtered and died the guy at the window informed me that I had my food and that I needed to pull forward. I responded with beating my head against the steering wheel. The guy behind me (along with the other 20 cars in the drive-thru) responded with getting really ticked off.
By the time two Wendy's employees came out to push my car I had taken the key out of the ignition. They started pushing and my steering wheeling locked in a position that aimed me right for another car in the parking lot. The Wendy's guys kept yelling at me to steer toward the empty parking space. (My ignition sticks, so it took a couple tries before I got the key to turn and could unlock my steering wheel.)
We parked the car and I thanked the Wendy's employees and walked across the street to the gas station. I informed the little Indian man behind the counter that my car was out of gas and I needed a gas can. He just shook his head and said they didn't have any.
I stood there and stared at him and he told me to go around the front.
"So you do have gas cans?" I asked.
"Just go around there." He answered.
At this point I had no idea what was going on. Finally his co-worker jumped in and told me they didn't have any gas cans that they could loan out - I would have to buy one.
"That's fine. Where are they?"
The guy repeated that I needed to "Go around the front."
"So I go outside? Are they on the side of the building?"
"ASILE 1. GO TO ASILE 1!" He yelled back.
I eventually got some gas in my car and was done looking like a complete idiot for the night.