So the other day I was driving home from getting coffee in Phu My Hung, and my motorbike engine started sputtering and coughing. I immediately looked down at my gas gauge because I knew I’d been pushing it. Sure enough, the needle was below “E” – if there was an indicator where the needle was, it would have read “Bone Dry.”

Anyway, I thought I had this nice big reserve tank, so I reached down and flipped what I thought was the reserve switch. The engine came back to life, so I figured that did it, and I could make it to a gas station. (The reason I was pushing it on gas in the first place is because there are no gas stations in Phu My Hung. I had been buying gas when I drove back into downtown HCMC, but I didn’t want to make a special trip there just to buy gas. Or maybe it’s just because I’m lazy. Either way, the point is I was out of gas.)

But after driving just a little further, my engine started sputtering again, and this time it went down for the count. Fortunately, I was at the major intersection there in Phu My Hung – I’m not sure of the names of the roads, but basically I was sandwiched between Lotteria and KFC on the road heading north (for those of you who might know where I’m talking about).

As I waited for the light, I tried to crank the bike back up a couple of times, but it was no use. So when the light changed, I pushed my bike over to the side of the road Fred Flintstone style – sitting on the seat of bike and pushing myself along with my feet. I noticed that there was a security guard with a walkie-talkie sitting on a chair out in front of the KFC, so I figured I’d ask him if he could call me a cab and I’d go pick up some gas.

But as I swung my leg over the seat of my motorbike to get off and stand up, I noticed that an old xe om driver had driven up right beside me. He was pointing at my motorbike in the general vicinity of my gas tank and saying “Xang? Xang?”, which is Vietnamese for “Gas? Gas?” (or maybe it’s “Petrol? Petrol?” or whatever they call it here but you get my drift).

I said yes and he pulled a liter of gas and a red plastic funnel from his motorbike, I popped my seat up and opened my gas tank, and 30 seconds and 20,000 dong (about $1.25 USD) later, I was good to go.

Where else can you run out of gas and, literally before you’ve even had time to get off of your motorbike (or out of your car or whatever), someone has driven up and offered to sell you gas to get you back on your way?!?