Ballad of forty dollars

I'm on I-44 westbound when I catch sight of Gwendolyn's gas gauge: three-eighths of a tank left. Good, I think. I can fill up and still keep it under $40.

I wheel into the station (NW 39th and Penn) and note that the 91-octane stuff is going for $3.649, which is pricey, but still a dime or so below what it was selling for on the Interstate. I start the flow and go for the squeegee.

Two large glass surfaces later, the click comes. I stare in disbelief: $39.85, despite a very good 22 mpg for the previous tankful. I sigh, squeeze the handle once more, and run the meter up to $39.99. A moral victory, anyway. Or it would have been, had I released the handle fast enough.

Next time, I suspect, I won't be so fortunate.

Posted at 6:07 PM to Family Joules