"One afternoon, I borrowed my husband's car to take our daughter shopping at the V&A. On the N1, I noticed his petrol light was on. Because he is notorious for 'driving on the edge', when it comes to not filling up, I called him immediately. He assured me I didn't need to fill up; it would get me there and back home. I don't know why I listened. This is a man who didn't fill up before a one-hour trip to Langebaan. We ran out of petrol (luckily) with the Engen in sight. That's not even the worst of it. A traffic car pulled up next to me with two traffic cops inside. They asked me what the issue was, to which I replied, still in denial, "I'm not sure – the car just stopped". One of the gentlemen got out of the car to confirm that I had, in fact, run out of petrol. He then asked: "Who runs out of petrol in this day and age?" He and his friend had a good laugh, while I muttered something about it being my husband's car. They stopped the flow of traffic so I could reverse / roll into the MyCiti bus stop and then left me to it. Luckily people who are notorious for running out of petrol normally have large empty containers in the boot. And, I was a short walk away from the garage I had just passed."CLICK BELOW to read about whether you should use the 93 or 95 version of unleaded petrol.
"It happened while I was on my way to a big night out, dressed to the nines. I got stuck on Orange Street making a U-turn to get to the Engen. I got out and started trying to push my car; in my high heels! Obviously, I didn't get very far. Seeing a damsel in distress, about six or seven men jumped out of their cars and ran to my rescue. One of the older men patted me on the shoulder and said: "It's ok cookie, sit in the car before you break an ankle". I ended up being pushed into the Engen by a group of male rescuers in my dead chariot."CLICK BELOW to read about how to get cash back when you fill up with fuel.
A friend of mine ran out of petrol, after a day at college, and called me to save her. I was at home at the time and was lazing around in my pyjamas. Needing to get to her side as soon as possible, I hopped into my car and raced to get her some petrol in a can. We got her filled up, started, and she drove off. I got back in my car and about three kilometres down the road, ran out myself. So, I had to walk back to the petrol station, in my pyjamas, and get another refill - for myself.CLICK BELOW to find out what South Africans really pay for fuel.
I had just met my boyfriend and it was one of the first nights I had stayed over at his house. We had been out the night before, and I was feeling very 'tender;. On, what was, essentially, my drive of shame, I ran out of petrol, just getting onto the freeway. There was obviously no way that I was going to phone him and ask for help. I still needed to play cool around him! So, I called an Uber, made him take me to the petrol station and pick up fuel. It certainly was not my most graceful moment sitting in the back of the Uber with a violent hangover and the smell of petrol to make it worse.Add yours below!