A Christmas Story

This happened to me quite a few years ago.

I left Wardsboro about noon on Xmas Day to visit my sister in Ct.

I figured I’d gas up in West Dover, on the way.

My mistake. All the gas stations were closed.

Wilmington, too.

Not worried, I was sure I could fill up in North Adams or Pittsfield.

Wrong again.

Now I’m in trouble. Not enough gas to get down there; not enough to get back home.


If I stop in gas stations on the way and drain what’s left in the hoses, I’ll make it!

I was on my fifth or sixth gas station when the “Fuzz” showed up. Oops!

I explained what I was doing and why.

He told me to get in my car. I was thinking, like petty larceny or something.

He got in his. Then he came out and walked over to me.

“I called the owner. He’ll be here in about 10 minutes with the keys to fill you up.

By the way, the gas is on us.

Merry Christmas!.”

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