Back in my Apartment-Dwelling-Days, BJ and I would regularly attend Bingo. She'd pick me up after work and we'd go over to the hall (which was beside the Welfare office by the way!)
On one such evening, BJ shows up and buzzes up to the apartment. "Can you come down? My car died!" And sure enough it had. Right at the entrance to the driveway so that no one could get in or out. We're both frantic. Not only is the car blocking the driveway, but we're going to be late for bingo!! Clearly we have our priorities straight.
I call The Husband on my cell and tell him what's happening. He has me do a few things -- turn the engine ("What does it sound like?"), check the gauges ("Is there gas?"). You know ... guy stuff. All to no avail. I'm panicking now. "What do I do? We're blocking the entrance. People are coming home from work. There's a line up!"
He starts using his Serious Voice and talks to me very slowly and very calmly the way people do when they want to impart something very important without causing panic.
"OK. I want you to listen carefully. Go upstairs to the spare room. You know where I store all the automotive stuff? On the second shelf is a box of rags. I want you to take a rag from the box. Then go to the kitchen and get one of the lighters. (I don't know where he's going with this, but my anxiety level is going up exponentially). Go back downstairs to the car. Do you see where the cap is? (I look. "Driver's side") Good. Carefully unscrew the gas cap. Now take the rag and gently stuff it inside the gas tank. Now, remember the lighter I told you to get? Take the lighter and light the rag on fire (I'm thinking to myself, this seems really dangerous). Now you might want to step back cuz there's gonna be a really big boom."
Before I can ask him "Are you sure??" (don't laugh, I was really going to ask him that! I was thinking this was some kind of radical technique!) he starts laughing.
He's a pooh head!