One of Klara’s favorite stories that I made up is about a car called Ellie who became friends with a truck called Truckie and he treated her to his favorite meal of diesel fuel. Of course, that made Ellie sick, and she couldn’t run anymore. I told this story to Klara about a million times.
So guess who’s the idiot that fueled her car with diesel? Yes, that would be me.
In my defense, I was sleepy, distracted, in a rush, and there was icy wind with a gust of snow blowing in my face, so I didn’t see what I was sticking into the poor vehicle. And yes, the fuel thingy didn’t fit into the opening very well but I’m a Soviet person. I forced it in.
Of course, the car died in the middle of the road. We have extremely polite, patient drivers in this region, so nobody even honked at me. Instead, people stopped and some kind gentlemen pushed the car manually into a parking lot. It was a narrow, one-lane street but nobody got impatient. In Ukraine, I would have gotten every kind of abuse hurled at me for doing this early in the morning when everybody is going to work. But here I got nothing but kindness.
I feel excruciatingly stupid. But also happy to be surrounded by such great people.
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