Don’t worry this is not another ranting and raving blog about car trouble, although it involves trouble related to my vehicle. My car was in for a service on Saturday, yes it was time again as I spend half my life on the road. I was rather surprised that the mechanics working on the car managed to get the onboard computer confused by cleaning an injection fuel filter. The way I discovered this was when I was on my way to Johannesburg that afternoon, and although the petrol light was on, the computer reassured me that I still had 90km of sheer driving pleasure on the tank. Oh boy was that the wrong information.
As I approached Marlboro on the M1 South my car nose-dived in the fast lane where I spend most my time. I quickly had to divert to the Toyota lane on the far left hand side and then disembarked the highway via the Marlboro off ramp. As I came to a standstill at the traffic light with piles of cars behind me, that was it, fuel was no longer present in the tank! So I did what any minibus taxi driver would have done, switched on my hazards and remained stationary. Luckily two opportunists prowling the area noticed my predicament and offered to push my car to the side of this doggy off ramp, close to where they regularly make fire to warm and light up the night. Off course I was too happy to pay the two men that came to my rescue, and they even offered to go buy me petrol if I were to give them money which I didn’t fall for as I grew up in Gauteng and that would just be idiotic.
So I took a walk to the nearest petrol station about two km’s away dressed in my gym attire, fortunately I was wearing comfortable shoes. After begging the petrol consultant for a bottle he first filled up the bottle to my disappointment with leaded petrol, now if I consider what two drops of the wrong power steering oil did to my car (R9K mistake) I wasn’t prepared to take any chances with leaded petrol on an empty tank of a car that is very pedantic about what it uses. So I decided to do my good deed of the day and gave 5 liters of petrol to the driver of the first old car that came driving into the petrol station. I think I made a friend there although the bastard didn’t even offer to take me back to my car. So after another R35, I finally had my 5 liters on unleaded petrol and I was on my way back to my car.
As I approached the area things started reminding me of crime scenes on TV. I was getting shivers down my spine. It felt like people looked at me like I was easy pray, probably because of the wallet I was carrying in my gym shorts pocket. As one’s imagination goes on a rampage one start to make emergency plans. Those of you who have seen my new cell phone would understand that it is possible to hide it on the side of one’s shoe just as a backup if you need to call the cops after you’ve been robbed from your wallet, watch, car etc. Luckily that wasn’t necessary.
As I arrived back at my car, all four wheels were still attached as the two opportunist looked after my car for me, and then they also insisted on helping me pour the petrol into my car as if I couldn’t manage that myself but at the time I didn’t feel too comfortable to resist. After thanking them politely I jumped into my car and locked the doors, they looked disappointed about not getting more money for their good deed, it’s not that I didn’t appreciate the help or not being willing to tip them again, I was just not comfortable producing my wallet in this particular public environment.
My car’s petrol light went on this morning again!
As I approached Marlboro on the M1 South my car nose-dived in the fast lane where I spend most my time. I quickly had to divert to the Toyota lane on the far left hand side and then disembarked the highway via the Marlboro off ramp. As I came to a standstill at the traffic light with piles of cars behind me, that was it, fuel was no longer present in the tank! So I did what any minibus taxi driver would have done, switched on my hazards and remained stationary. Luckily two opportunists prowling the area noticed my predicament and offered to push my car to the side of this doggy off ramp, close to where they regularly make fire to warm and light up the night. Off course I was too happy to pay the two men that came to my rescue, and they even offered to go buy me petrol if I were to give them money which I didn’t fall for as I grew up in Gauteng and that would just be idiotic.
So I took a walk to the nearest petrol station about two km’s away dressed in my gym attire, fortunately I was wearing comfortable shoes. After begging the petrol consultant for a bottle he first filled up the bottle to my disappointment with leaded petrol, now if I consider what two drops of the wrong power steering oil did to my car (R9K mistake) I wasn’t prepared to take any chances with leaded petrol on an empty tank of a car that is very pedantic about what it uses. So I decided to do my good deed of the day and gave 5 liters of petrol to the driver of the first old car that came driving into the petrol station. I think I made a friend there although the bastard didn’t even offer to take me back to my car. So after another R35, I finally had my 5 liters on unleaded petrol and I was on my way back to my car.
As I approached the area things started reminding me of crime scenes on TV. I was getting shivers down my spine. It felt like people looked at me like I was easy pray, probably because of the wallet I was carrying in my gym shorts pocket. As one’s imagination goes on a rampage one start to make emergency plans. Those of you who have seen my new cell phone would understand that it is possible to hide it on the side of one’s shoe just as a backup if you need to call the cops after you’ve been robbed from your wallet, watch, car etc. Luckily that wasn’t necessary.
As I arrived back at my car, all four wheels were still attached as the two opportunist looked after my car for me, and then they also insisted on helping me pour the petrol into my car as if I couldn’t manage that myself but at the time I didn’t feel too comfortable to resist. After thanking them politely I jumped into my car and locked the doors, they looked disappointed about not getting more money for their good deed, it’s not that I didn’t appreciate the help or not being willing to tip them again, I was just not comfortable producing my wallet in this particular public environment.
My car’s petrol light went on this morning again!
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