"Lino, you're almost out of gas," I said helpfully.
"That's why we're going to a gas station," he replied. I successfully guided the car to the nearest gas station and proudly pulled up next to a pump without hitting so much as a curb. I put the car in park, engaged the parking brake, and turned off the ignition.
"Out you go!" I said cheerfully.
"And out you go," Lino replied. I protested at length, explaining how the smell of gasoline makes me nauseous and relating the tale of an uncle of mine who puked all over himself after spilling gasoline on his clothes. I knew Lino wouldn't give in, so while I was complaining I climbed out of the car, wrestled the gas cap off and shoved the pump in place. Lino waited patiently until my griping was over, then selected his gas type and watched with amusement as I choked the pump repeatedly.
When I finally managed to get the fuel flowing, Lino instructed, "Stop at exactly $20.00." I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh, we're going to play that game, are we?" but secretly it made me feel, for the very first time, like a real driver. The result? $20.02. Not too shabby for a first-timer.