So last night I went to Concord with my friend Katie in her recently-acquired car. She went to hang out with some guy and I spent the evening with Kazz and TF2. Her gas guage had been off, or so she'd told me before we even got to Concord, and on the way home she had me drive, which is fine. No big deal. We're driving along, and we pass a few exits, and then the car starts sort of jolting forward like it's trying desperately to shift gears. I'm like "dude, this car is not shifting" and she's like "oh my fucking god this car" and then I realize, "Oh no, we're out of gas." The guage was wrong anyway, but it was immediately apparent that was the case. I txted Kazz (thank god for you cell phone) and he was going to come to the rescue with a can of gas. While waiting, the battery died. Awesome. The car would not jump when Kazz got there, so he saved us and everyone spent the night at my house once we got home about 2:30 am.
Good times, cars. But in the crappy car's defense, I had more fun sitting in the dead car waiting for Kazz than I had playing TF2 last night. I could not stop laughing about how crappy it was to be stuck in a dead car, but it was so funny. I don't know why I react that way to these sorts of things.