Zero Miles To Empty

The trip back to the east coast from Nashville almost mocked us here at Music Fog. Departing after minimal sleep, and a plan to "keep the pedal to the metal" was certain to fall short

Sure enough, a Waffle House just east of Nashville was our first road block. Eggs, grits and hash browns called out to us. Southern hospitality almost killed us. Before you knew it the waitress had us wearing the official WH paper hats and armed us with a map showing each and every Waffle House in this great country we live in. There were children in the restaurant wearing the same hats, and we didn't make them feel so "special" any more.

Aaron fueled up the truck - we started again. Then came the call for ice cream from the back seat. It was more than one mile off the interstate and that was about to break Aaron's rule: If you can't see it from the road, we don't stop. We stopped.

We started again. This time the call was for Arby's (the popular beef & cheese). The idea was to get the bowels moving. It worked like a charm.  But the GPS now had us racking up three hours of wayside stops.

Roanoke VA was in our sites when I spotted a Mexican restaurant. Alejandro's delivered what we officially named "The Baby". It was a 10 pound California style burrito that Aaron managed to slip down after visiting the salsa bar to sample the 31 flavors on display. This took Aaron out of commission and put his ass in the shotgun seat.  The "Tetris effect" took hold of his lower unit and he just wasn't the same after that stop.

The FNG Chris Walsh took over the wheel and we raced off into the night. Chris decided that this would be a good time to talk about our families and our "feelings" of childhood. Ben talked about his uncle who killed the Easter bunny when he was a child. I shared by my story of growing up the only boy in the family and how my sisters would stick my head in the toilet for kicks. But there was no crying.

While Chris was busy playing therapist, alarms and lights on the dashboard signaled "low fuel". These alarms were ignored as diesel fuel stops kept whizzing by in the night. Ben wanted more candy. But his requests were ignored as the therapy continued from the driver's seat.

Then Ben whispered in my ear, "This guy is taking it to the wire". Next thing you know, the message light came on that read "Zero Miles To Empty". And we sat at a service station that didn't sell diesel. I felt as if there was no reason to live any more. Ben went inside and purchased beer and candy. Aaron got on the phone and started to make calls inquiring about the possible purchase of more diesel fuel. His inquiry was only met by the word "what?" in a middle eastern accent. Six phone calls - six of the same result.

Then finally, pay dirt. Aaron found a service station 5.5 miles away that sold the liquid gold we so desperately needed. We were only 20 miles from home, yet it felt like 200. Gingerly, Aaron started the engine and planned to coast to the service station. He claimed he had "training" in these matters. Chris was busy putting this all on video, so when our bodies are found there would be some record of our demise.

We got there. I don't know how. Maybe it was because we kept the windows up and played the "aerodynamic card". But I think it was the 10 pound burrito baby in Aaron's gut that got us there. It was a gassy baby. A source of nature onto itself.

Bless the burrito baby

-Beans