Why don't cops listen to women?

Ron got a good laugh out of this, and I'm glad, but I was really peeved! It is kinda funny, though.

I had a doctor's appointment this morning, and on the way home, I ran out of gas and got stuck on the side of the highway. I called everyone I could think to call, and no one was available to come out and give me a little gas so I could get to a gas station. So, I did the only thing I could think to do: I called 911.

I told the dispatcher that I had run out of gas, told her what I was driving and where I was. In the following 20 minutes that I had to wait for an officer to get to me, I said a prayer that no one would hit me from behind (as the noon rush was approaching), and that I would get out of it in one piece. I guess I should have been more specific.

When the police officer finally arrived, I told him that I had run out of gas and that I needed to get some. His response: he called a tow truck. Why couldn't he have taken me to a gas station so I could rent a gas can and take back a little gas to my truck so I could make it to a gas station? Nope. I had to pay $50 for a tow.

Then, when the tow truck got there, I asked him to tow me to a gas station. He said, well, if it's not dead because it ran out of gas, you'll need a mechanic. I'll just take you to an auto shop so you don't have to have me tow you again if it's not out of gas. Which one do you want me to take you to? (GRRRRRRR!!!! I'M JUST OUT OF GAS!)

So, he takes me to a repair shop. There's a gas station next door. Thankfully, I know the owners of the repair shop. They're great Christian people, and are more than helpful. The husband of this family-owned business put a gallon of gas in my truck for me, and his wife followed me to the gas station just in case there really was something wrong instead of just being out of gas. No problem. I filled up and was on my way.

You're probably wondering why I let my gas tank get so low. No, my gas guage isn't broken. Yes, the needle was pointing at "empty." The thing is, I've watched as Ron drove the truck into a level lower (I thought) than I had it and still have time to get to a gas station. I thought I'd be able to make it another three miles to the nearest gas station. Ha. Yeah. Right.

So, when I was finally able to get Ron on the phone, did he get mad? Nope. Yell? Nope. Give me the silent treatment? Nope. He laughed! I'm so glad. My dad found out about my sad situation and yelled at me for it. Why? It wasn't his money I had to waste on a tow truck! But he did apologize to me later, and then told me what to do if (God forbid) this should happen again.

How was I to know that I might have been able to start it up again if I just waited a little while, and then drive another couple of miles or so? I've never run out of gas before, nor have I ridden with someone who's run out of gas with me in tow.

I'm sure when people driving by saw a tow truck lifting my pickup onto its platform, with me, a short blonde woman standing by, they were thinking "What a dumb blonde!" I'm really not. I was heading toward a gas station when I ran out of gas. I just hadn't made it off the highway yet.

A couple of things could have prevented this. First, I could have made sure that I got gas before I went anywhere, and second, the stupid cop should have believed me when I told him I was out of gas and just taken me to get a gas can, and then driven me back so I could add it to my tank. I would have only been out a few bucks, which I would have been anyway since I needed gas to begin with!

Why don't cops listen to women? Do they think we're all stupid and don't know when we're out of gas? COME ON!!! We, like the men we live with, sometimes let the tank get too low. HUMPH!!! Well, that'll never happen again! (I hope...)