The petrol dilemma

I’ve never been a car girl, plain and simple. My little Ford Fiesta has a yellow flower on the aerial which some people see as a disgrace, but I see it as a necessary car locator. I love having a car, its honestly a dream come true. Do I wish it had unlimited petrol so that I wouldn’t have to fill up? Hell yes.

Why don’t we drive onto the petrol station for our third location where tragedy has struck. It was precisely 7:30 on a cold Wednesday morning, not the best condition for optimal functioning. I’ve managed to pull my car into the fill up area without taking out the petrol pump and causing an explosion that would make it onto SKY News #majoraccomplishment. I roll my window down which takes multiple aggressive clicks as she only wakes up at about 11 when she’s been baking in the sun for a few hours. A way-too-smiley for 7:30 in the morning petrol attendant comes to my window and asks me what he can help me with. For once I don’t actually stop breathing while speaking, I just completely say the wrong thing. I announce that it would be great if he could fill it up 73, please.

MAJOR MISTAKE MATE.

It seems as though I’ve lost all my mathematical and common knowledge since I’ve left matric. Considering that I’m an 18 year old, have been driving for 6 months and prior to that have been in my parent’s car for 18 years there’s absolutely no way for me to back-pedal out of this situation.

Truly mortifying. And let’s not forget that I almost stalled in my haste to sprint out of that petrol station. Oh and for all of you who are just like me, its 93 not 73.