Panic at the Gas Pump

I'd say the majority of our readers are here in town, and you know as well as we, what the gas situation has been a little ridiculous. I mean, not just ridiculous in the fact of most stations being out of it, but what this has done to our region. Whether it started as a rumor or not, there is most definitely a gas shortage. (For those reading from out of town, who haven't caught CNN this weekend or some of the national broadcasts about our predicament, clicking the link might be a useful step.)

Anyways, Cliff put $40 in his Jimmy last Saturday when gas prices in the area were on the rise and everyone was dealing with Ike. Whether he had premonitions of what was to come, I don't know, but he was smart. As we speak, his tanks sits in the parking lot in front of our apartment with half tank of gas. He only drives about 50 miles per week on average, so that helps, too. My situation, however, was a bit different. By Wednesday I noticed that all of the gas stations lining the major road we take to get to our place were out. So, after a run by the grocery store, I put about $20 in thinking the situation would get no worse than it was. I've never really been the "oh my gosh, the world is ending" sort of person so I figured it would turn in a couple of days. And boy, was I wrong. It just got worse.

Since putting in a half tank, I realized a couple of necessary drives to Nashville from Franklin were in store and the gas situation was getting no better. Lines at the pumps that actually had gas were around the corner, orange cones set up to guide traffic, and gas station attendants breaking up fights soon attended by police officers. I mean, crazy stuff. So, off to Nashville I went... Wednesday... Thursday... Saturday. And last night, as we were enjoying a friend's birthday party at Rosario's, one of the other party guests who had recently left called up someone still there and let us all know that the "gas station by Zanie's has gas and there's no line." Eureka! We still had the Young Alumni Social to hit at Mafiaoza's after Matt's birthday party, but my near-empty tank was going to get some gasoline loving by the time our night was over, especially since we'd have to come back to Nashville again Sunday for a concert.

By the time we got to the Shell station at nearly 11:45pm there was a line of tired, groggy people fighting off frustration and filling up their tanks (for $3.99 I might add which seemed like a bargain). You could feel the tension in the air and the weariness was written all over the faces of the gas station attendants. And even in that short visit of ours, we saw two taxis cut in line in front of other people patiently waiting their turn. That's the least of the stories we've heard some people telling of what they've seen. On our drive home, Cliff recounted the attendants views on the day and his hope that the trucks will actually come through on Tuesday which is supposed to be when all of this turns around for us Middle Tennesseans. As we pulled off the interstate onto 96, we noticed the Shell station there had also been visited by the gasoline fairy and again, there was no shortage of cars waiting in lines marked by orange cones.

This is one week to go down in the record books.