Life is just one petrol queue party after the next!
Having a full time job, spending lunch times and after work running around and getting kids to sporting meetings or home from school and evenings at Uni were beginning to take their toll. Although I have never been a particularly good sleeper, when those eyes began to shut and the mind slowly faded into a new dreamworld for the evening, I resented any form of disruption.
So one morning when, just before 6am, my mobile rang and an excited voice yelled, 'Ash! Petrol!' into my ear I was not a happy girl.
'SLEEPING!" was my annoyed reply. 'I have exams tomorrow.'
'It is tomorrow babe and do you have petrol to get you there?' came the reply.
I lay in the warm bed for a few seconds, eyes closed and willing it to be a dream, as the words slowly began to sink into my head. We hadn`t had a petrol delivery in nearly two weeks now and the red light was just about to come on, warning that I would be left stranded in some undesirable place in the very near future. Grunting and pushing the blankets off my reluctant body, I asked where the drop off was likely to be and before long was dressed and out the door, my Psychology books flung on the empty passenger seat. By the time I arrived it seemed that the whole town was already out, a long line of stationary cars snaking along the side of the main road and disappearing around the bend inbetween the houses.
Life had become like this now. It was not uncommon to see advertising boards outside of petrol stations announcing the special of the day - 'No Fuel'. Not that there was anything to put on special anyway. Deliveries came in from the surrounding countries without any notice and with very little regularity so you had to conserve fuel as a public transport system was non-existent. If you were looking for a little adventure and decided to try one of the local taxi`s you would be taking your life into your hands. Crammed with people sitting on each others laps and limbs dangling out of windows and open doors, you either faced death by asphixiation or heart attack, as you careened down the road, often the driver not even coming to a complete stop when you wanted to get out.
On delivery days text messages would spread the word around town that a fuel delivery was rumoured to be arriving at a particular petrol station that day and generally you would drop what you were doing and head to the rumoured destination straight away, spending what could be hours waiting in a queue, on the off chance that the rumour was true.
The longest I ever spent in a petrol queue was about 14 hours and was on the day of my final exam in my last year of Uni. There was no such thing as keeping places for each other in line - this could result in being beaten to a pulp! - so I pulled into the back of the queue, grabbed my books and carefully locked the car before making my way down the long line to find my friend. Along the way I stopped to have a chat to a few people who had gathered outside their various cars and chuckled as I passed the snoring heads of a few others, as they leaned against the head rest, deep in slumber.
2pm came and went. After a morning of sitting in the heat and trying desparately to cram last minute notes into my head, it had all been in vain. The exam started without me and now I had no choice but to throw the books in the back seat and head over to the closest gang of people who were sitting on the road side and sipping cold beers. By the time the petrol actually arrived we were all pretty much 'under the weather', a combination of drinks and too much sun, and I was devastated at the prospect of having to face another semester of Uni. I didn`t think 'But Sir, I was in a petrol queue' was a good enough excuse to get out of this one.
The real joy started when the petrol actually arrived. When you have around 300 cars infront of you and not a lot of fuel left you cannot sit in the car with the engine idling, nor can you keep stopping and starting the car. The only alternative? To get out and PUSH! Normally you would help the person infront of you, waiting for a gap of two streetlights to open up before heaving the car forward, pulling on the handbrake and then rushing back to do the same to your car. By the time you were ready to go home you had well and truly sweated out any alcohol you may have had in your system.
Lucky for us it was a Friday night and now we had petrol to head into town for a well deserved PARTY!
So one morning when, just before 6am, my mobile rang and an excited voice yelled, 'Ash! Petrol!' into my ear I was not a happy girl.
'SLEEPING!" was my annoyed reply. 'I have exams tomorrow.'
'It is tomorrow babe and do you have petrol to get you there?' came the reply.
I lay in the warm bed for a few seconds, eyes closed and willing it to be a dream, as the words slowly began to sink into my head. We hadn`t had a petrol delivery in nearly two weeks now and the red light was just about to come on, warning that I would be left stranded in some undesirable place in the very near future. Grunting and pushing the blankets off my reluctant body, I asked where the drop off was likely to be and before long was dressed and out the door, my Psychology books flung on the empty passenger seat. By the time I arrived it seemed that the whole town was already out, a long line of stationary cars snaking along the side of the main road and disappearing around the bend inbetween the houses.
Life had become like this now. It was not uncommon to see advertising boards outside of petrol stations announcing the special of the day - 'No Fuel'. Not that there was anything to put on special anyway. Deliveries came in from the surrounding countries without any notice and with very little regularity so you had to conserve fuel as a public transport system was non-existent. If you were looking for a little adventure and decided to try one of the local taxi`s you would be taking your life into your hands. Crammed with people sitting on each others laps and limbs dangling out of windows and open doors, you either faced death by asphixiation or heart attack, as you careened down the road, often the driver not even coming to a complete stop when you wanted to get out.
On delivery days text messages would spread the word around town that a fuel delivery was rumoured to be arriving at a particular petrol station that day and generally you would drop what you were doing and head to the rumoured destination straight away, spending what could be hours waiting in a queue, on the off chance that the rumour was true.
The longest I ever spent in a petrol queue was about 14 hours and was on the day of my final exam in my last year of Uni. There was no such thing as keeping places for each other in line - this could result in being beaten to a pulp! - so I pulled into the back of the queue, grabbed my books and carefully locked the car before making my way down the long line to find my friend. Along the way I stopped to have a chat to a few people who had gathered outside their various cars and chuckled as I passed the snoring heads of a few others, as they leaned against the head rest, deep in slumber.
2pm came and went. After a morning of sitting in the heat and trying desparately to cram last minute notes into my head, it had all been in vain. The exam started without me and now I had no choice but to throw the books in the back seat and head over to the closest gang of people who were sitting on the road side and sipping cold beers. By the time the petrol actually arrived we were all pretty much 'under the weather', a combination of drinks and too much sun, and I was devastated at the prospect of having to face another semester of Uni. I didn`t think 'But Sir, I was in a petrol queue' was a good enough excuse to get out of this one.
The real joy started when the petrol actually arrived. When you have around 300 cars infront of you and not a lot of fuel left you cannot sit in the car with the engine idling, nor can you keep stopping and starting the car. The only alternative? To get out and PUSH! Normally you would help the person infront of you, waiting for a gap of two streetlights to open up before heaving the car forward, pulling on the handbrake and then rushing back to do the same to your car. By the time you were ready to go home you had well and truly sweated out any alcohol you may have had in your system.
Lucky for us it was a Friday night and now we had petrol to head into town for a well deserved PARTY!
Celebrity Obsession
Amazing. Such a totally different experience to anything I've ever come across. A riveting read too.
By the way, love the new pic in the banner.
Kylie
Postmodern Critic
Daily Inspirations
Relativity Watch
Padsoc
This must have been in Africa, no?
What a shame that you missed your exam...
I agree with Kylie, your new banner is very refreshing.
Coffee Quip
A Global Citizen
Paranormal Paranormal
Is Why
Alaska Chronicle
Nice header.
Ghastly prophesy....it's coming soon to some city in the USA.
I hope you can make up the exam.
At least there was a rainbow at the end of the tunnel-it was petrol Friday.
Life is good.
Raven
Kalikapsychosis
and I love how you tell it! That would have been one hell of a party!
I love your new pic up there too!
Love Speaks
Interesting how that may soon be coming a full circle to the developed nations...!
Movies and Life
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
Magnifique!
Mis
coolgirlsar to the rescue
One Too Many Chocolate Bars
Take Care.
Sarah.
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Thanks very much for your comments. It was an interesting time and one that I look back on with fond memories - sort of brought our town together. Sadly I agree that it seems the world is moving this way in the near future. Good luck, make sure the bikes tyres are pumped
Ash