Part#1
So...Finished dinner with my friends who were visiting from overseas. They got dinner which always makes me feel bad as it is my town (well, my adopted town anyway) and I feel like I should host. But they were decided and that was that.
They said something about getting a cab back to their hotel so I extended the offer to take them in my car and drop them off at their hotel. They asked how far it was from my house and I lied and said 10 mins only. The reality was more like 25 mins each way - but I wanted to offer some kind of hospitality to my friends, so driving them back was my best choice - and I knew they would refuse if they thought it was out of my way...
I remembered vaguely that the car needed filling up but the gauge said there was enough gas for about 80kms when we left the restaurant area in the centre of town.
As we drove the warning light for low gas came on. The gauge still said 50 kms or so. I carried on. I dropped my friends off at the end of the Palm at their hotel and set off back making some work calls to colleagues in Europe to discuss some business matters.
Half way home and the "to go" gauge is showing 20kms... But I know there is a gas station soon...
But not soon enough. I ran out of gas. No more petrol. Sans benzine. Senza benzina. Mafi go-go juice. I swung the car to a bus stop layby and lit the hazard lights.
I told my colleague of my predicament as I carried on my conversation. He laughed and pointed out the irony of running out of petrol while living on top of the world's largest hydrocarbon deposits. It was not lost on me.
The temperature was a balmy 32 degrees and very humid as I set off on what I was sure was a short walk to the nearest gas station. Of course my estimates of distance were based on drive time and not walk time and it was maybe a kilometre and a half walk...
I arrived at the gas station sweaty and annoyed, and finished the call.
I located some plastic cans to fill with petrol and duly purchased a five litre can. Filled it with petrol outside, tipped the gas pump attendant and walked back to my empty car which seemed to be further away than I remembered.
There is something levelling about running out of gas. Whether you drive a Ferrari or a Fiat, a Lamborghini or a Lada, when you run out of gas they're all the same. Immobile lumps of metal and rubber. And utterly and completely useless.
I got back to the car tired, very sweaty and fed up but relieved as I would soon be going home. Wrong.
I opened the gas cap, and started to pour. And all that happened was petrol splashed down the side of my car. I poured more slowly and petrol splashed more slowly down the side of my car. By my estimation maybe a mouthful of petrol might have gone into the car and I'd nearly emptied the can...
It was then I took a closer look and identified the safety valve in the filler hole... Which needed to be pushed open to allow any petrol into the car. I made an attempt to pour very slowly the last few cups full of gas - hoping they would somehow magically drip into the tank. Instead they magically spilled all over me. Luckily no naked flames nearby or I would be writing this tale from the moon.
So I tried to start the car hoping for divine intervention but instead got a physics lesson:
Take one empty car. Pour gas down the side of it and all over the driver. Car remains empty. Start car. No gas means no start. Driver now sweaty, soaked in petrol and feeling like the idiot he is.
Part #2:
I crossed the road with my empty jerry can and hailed down a cab. I explained to the driver that I am a moron. In fact a double moron as first I had let my car run out of gas and second, that even when armed with a full can of petrol, I am too stupid to fill it up.
He looked at me in a kindly fashion and told me not to worry. He would help me. And then he smiled a gentle smile which was generous and true.
He drove me to the gas station while I explained that I needed some kind of tube or funnel to get the next batch of gas into the car.
He again said not to worry and that he would help me.
I got a second jerry can for good measure and filled both up, while asking the gas pump boy for a funnel or tube. The gas pump boy told me not to worry - he would help me.
He then took a used empty water bottle from the trash and cut it in half at an angle, creating a funnel. So simple and so practical. I - the President & CEO of my company in this region - would never have thought of something so smart.
Equipped with two jerry cans of gas and a new funnel, I got back in the cab and the kindly driver took me back to my car.
When we got to it, he looked at the car and then back at me.
"How did such a big car run out of petrol sir?" He asked.
Because its driver is a pea brain I thought, but actually said "Well... unfortunately the digital petrol gauge is clearly not accurate or possibly malfunctioned and I ran out of petrol before the estimated remaining mileage had elapsed."
I may as well have recited the Lords Prayer in Mandarin. He knew the truth. I was a stupid ass who forgot to fill his enormous car with petrol. Simple. Simpleton.
He looked at me with pity and set about opening the gas cap and the jerry cans...
I pointed out my previous discovery of the safety valve. Unfortunately the make shift funnel did not have enough length at the neck to open the valve so we needed another tool. The driver asked me if I had a pen. I did.
He issued the directions. I pushed the pen into the hole to open the valve and held the funnel while he slowly poured two jerry cans into the car. Barely a drop was spilled.
I went round and started the car. Relief! Joy! And air conditioning! Hooray.
The driver had stopped his meter when we pulled up but had spent another ten minutes helping me. The meter said 16 Dirhams - about 3 Euros or 4 dollars. I gave him 100 and he gave me 85 change. I went to give him an extra five Dirhams and he smiled at me and politely refused. "No sir. No need. I just wanted to help you."
He smiled at me once again and quietly got back in his cab.
I was rather moved by his kindness and humility - in stark contrast to my own arrogance and stupidity - not to mention haste which had seen me first end up running out of gas. Then rushing the solution and pouring gas all over myself and the car. Then seeing two men who will earn in twenty or thirty years what I earn in one year, create an improvised funnel from a old plastic water bottle.
And then seeing a man with nearly nothing help a man with obviously rather too much, literally out of the kindness of his heart. Humbly,quietly and unassumingly kind. Genuinely nice.
Made me feel good about the world, reflective about my own shortcomings, ego and vanities - and most of all made me want to share this story of my hero the cab driver and his side kick the gas pump kid.
I got home stinking of petrol, took a shower and then sat to write this right away. A fresh tale of kindness, humility...and a long, hot walk.
So...Finished dinner with my friends who were visiting from overseas. They got dinner which always makes me feel bad as it is my town (well, my adopted town anyway) and I feel like I should host. But they were decided and that was that.
They said something about getting a cab back to their hotel so I extended the offer to take them in my car and drop them off at their hotel. They asked how far it was from my house and I lied and said 10 mins only. The reality was more like 25 mins each way - but I wanted to offer some kind of hospitality to my friends, so driving them back was my best choice - and I knew they would refuse if they thought it was out of my way...
I remembered vaguely that the car needed filling up but the gauge said there was enough gas for about 80kms when we left the restaurant area in the centre of town.
As we drove the warning light for low gas came on. The gauge still said 50 kms or so. I carried on. I dropped my friends off at the end of the Palm at their hotel and set off back making some work calls to colleagues in Europe to discuss some business matters.
Half way home and the "to go" gauge is showing 20kms... But I know there is a gas station soon...
But not soon enough. I ran out of gas. No more petrol. Sans benzine. Senza benzina. Mafi go-go juice. I swung the car to a bus stop layby and lit the hazard lights.
I told my colleague of my predicament as I carried on my conversation. He laughed and pointed out the irony of running out of petrol while living on top of the world's largest hydrocarbon deposits. It was not lost on me.
The temperature was a balmy 32 degrees and very humid as I set off on what I was sure was a short walk to the nearest gas station. Of course my estimates of distance were based on drive time and not walk time and it was maybe a kilometre and a half walk...
I arrived at the gas station sweaty and annoyed, and finished the call.
I located some plastic cans to fill with petrol and duly purchased a five litre can. Filled it with petrol outside, tipped the gas pump attendant and walked back to my empty car which seemed to be further away than I remembered.
There is something levelling about running out of gas. Whether you drive a Ferrari or a Fiat, a Lamborghini or a Lada, when you run out of gas they're all the same. Immobile lumps of metal and rubber. And utterly and completely useless.
I got back to the car tired, very sweaty and fed up but relieved as I would soon be going home. Wrong.
I opened the gas cap, and started to pour. And all that happened was petrol splashed down the side of my car. I poured more slowly and petrol splashed more slowly down the side of my car. By my estimation maybe a mouthful of petrol might have gone into the car and I'd nearly emptied the can...
It was then I took a closer look and identified the safety valve in the filler hole... Which needed to be pushed open to allow any petrol into the car. I made an attempt to pour very slowly the last few cups full of gas - hoping they would somehow magically drip into the tank. Instead they magically spilled all over me. Luckily no naked flames nearby or I would be writing this tale from the moon.
So I tried to start the car hoping for divine intervention but instead got a physics lesson:
Take one empty car. Pour gas down the side of it and all over the driver. Car remains empty. Start car. No gas means no start. Driver now sweaty, soaked in petrol and feeling like the idiot he is.
Part #2:
I crossed the road with my empty jerry can and hailed down a cab. I explained to the driver that I am a moron. In fact a double moron as first I had let my car run out of gas and second, that even when armed with a full can of petrol, I am too stupid to fill it up.
He looked at me in a kindly fashion and told me not to worry. He would help me. And then he smiled a gentle smile which was generous and true.
He drove me to the gas station while I explained that I needed some kind of tube or funnel to get the next batch of gas into the car.
He again said not to worry and that he would help me.
I got a second jerry can for good measure and filled both up, while asking the gas pump boy for a funnel or tube. The gas pump boy told me not to worry - he would help me.
He then took a used empty water bottle from the trash and cut it in half at an angle, creating a funnel. So simple and so practical. I - the President & CEO of my company in this region - would never have thought of something so smart.
Equipped with two jerry cans of gas and a new funnel, I got back in the cab and the kindly driver took me back to my car.
When we got to it, he looked at the car and then back at me.
"How did such a big car run out of petrol sir?" He asked.
Because its driver is a pea brain I thought, but actually said "Well... unfortunately the digital petrol gauge is clearly not accurate or possibly malfunctioned and I ran out of petrol before the estimated remaining mileage had elapsed."
I may as well have recited the Lords Prayer in Mandarin. He knew the truth. I was a stupid ass who forgot to fill his enormous car with petrol. Simple. Simpleton.
He looked at me with pity and set about opening the gas cap and the jerry cans...
I pointed out my previous discovery of the safety valve. Unfortunately the make shift funnel did not have enough length at the neck to open the valve so we needed another tool. The driver asked me if I had a pen. I did.
He issued the directions. I pushed the pen into the hole to open the valve and held the funnel while he slowly poured two jerry cans into the car. Barely a drop was spilled.
I went round and started the car. Relief! Joy! And air conditioning! Hooray.
The driver had stopped his meter when we pulled up but had spent another ten minutes helping me. The meter said 16 Dirhams - about 3 Euros or 4 dollars. I gave him 100 and he gave me 85 change. I went to give him an extra five Dirhams and he smiled at me and politely refused. "No sir. No need. I just wanted to help you."
He smiled at me once again and quietly got back in his cab.
I was rather moved by his kindness and humility - in stark contrast to my own arrogance and stupidity - not to mention haste which had seen me first end up running out of gas. Then rushing the solution and pouring gas all over myself and the car. Then seeing two men who will earn in twenty or thirty years what I earn in one year, create an improvised funnel from a old plastic water bottle.
And then seeing a man with nearly nothing help a man with obviously rather too much, literally out of the kindness of his heart. Humbly,quietly and unassumingly kind. Genuinely nice.
Made me feel good about the world, reflective about my own shortcomings, ego and vanities - and most of all made me want to share this story of my hero the cab driver and his side kick the gas pump kid.
I got home stinking of petrol, took a shower and then sat to write this right away. A fresh tale of kindness, humility...and a long, hot walk.
