Dear Gas Tank,

mileage may vary
the car conspires against me
and my poor budget

Hey there, Gas Tank. You and I have been getting a lot more face time lately, haven’t we? I think you’re a really nice tank and everything, and I do appreciate everything you do for me and my family, but, well, I think it’s time we talked.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy standing next to you and freezing my ass off while you guzzle away my vacation savings, it’s just that I think we’ve been spending a little too much time together lately.

I’m flattered that you want to spend all this time with me, but I want the time we spend together to be out of mutual appreciation, not desperation, you know what I mean? I feel like maybe you’ve been working overtime, or conspiring to get me closer to you or something. And I’m totally not criticizing, because I get it. You have a crush on me. And when you see me your day brightens. Birds sing a little louder. The clouds make little heart shapes in the sky. I’ve had crushes before. I know how you feel.

But manipulating the mileage you get? Just to feel my hand unscrew your lid? I don’t think that’s the most effective way to get my attention. Because I can tell you for certain, I didn’t drive 520 miles last week. That’s why I’m confused as to why you were empty today. I’m pretty sure this happened the week before last, too, Gas Tank.

I hate to say it, but… that’s not cool.

Not cool at all.

I know our relationship is complicated. I know it’s based on money and uncomfortable politics. But in the past we’ve been able to put that aside, you and I. Our relationship has been pure-ish. I feed you once every few weeks, and you help me haul shit around. It’s very win-win.

But, now? Now I don’t know what to do, Gas Tank. I feel betrayed. I feel like you’re guzzling gas just to get my attention. Can’t we go back to how things used to be? Can’t we relive the good old days? I think we have something special and that we can work out our differences. Does that make me crazy? I don’t know. But I need your help with this. A person-Gas Tank relationship takes work from both sides. Can I count on you to cut out these shenanigans and go back to our 520 mile days?

I genuinely like you. Almost even respect you. Will you respect me back?


Because if you don’t stop fucking around I could easily toss you aside for one of those fancy new hybrids.

Get it together, Gas Tank. I mean it this time.

concerned mother


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