Gas, gas everywhere and not a drop to buy
As I sat there in my car wondering what to do about this dire situation, I thought, to myself, "Maybe if I sleep in my car tonight someone will break in and kill me." I looked around for anything I could hock for about fifty bucks. I figured I would probably get in trouble if I sold my work laptop and I would rather lose a leg than sell my iPod. So, I braced myself for the March Pennsylvanian night. Eventually, the migrant workers gathering around my car got me a little scared and I started to call for help. After many "piss offs" and "you are a loser" from various friends and family, a kind soul, let's call her Karen, found a Western Union nearby and wired me some money. After a few hours, I was back on the road.
The moral of this story you might ask? Never have kids.