Did That Really Just Happen?

I mowed yesterday. It was an interesting experience, and at the end of it all I felt like a chimpanzee fishing ants out of a hole with a twig. Allow me to explain:

It was a lovely day in the '70s when I chose to go out in the garage and start up the old John Deere. Noticing the mower's gas gauge was reading nearly empty, I grabbed the red gas can and unscrewed its cap nozzle. Someone had replaced a center piece with a disk of black rubber - it functioned well enough in storing the gasoline; kind of a two-piece, makeshift cap for the portable five-gallon tank.

Anyway, after carefully filling the mower tank and then getting ready to reattach its black screw top, I reached over, looked in the tank and the small black disk flew out of my left hand with the breeze, kind of 'Frisbee-flew' sideways and drifted straight into the mower gas tank.

I couldn't believe it. Of all the places in the garage or around the mower that little thing could land, and it flips into the gas tank. Unbelievable. I look in there. It's there, resting on the clear plastic bottom of the gas tank. Ok, but what if it clogs the gas intake to the engine, cutting off the supply? I decide to see if I can extract it. I locate a long screwdriver and an old dinner fork from the kitchen. I attempt to get a hold on the disk, but it slips out of my grasp. I wish I had a really, really long set of tweezers.

I decide to close up the tank and go ahead and mow, and see what happens. Thankfully, I mow without incident. An hour or so later, I drive the green and yellow tractor back into the garage, and can't forget about the little intruder in the gas mechanism. I take another look.

Now the tank is much emptier, much of the gasoline having been used. I decide to go fishing again. This time this time I drag out more tools: a pair of long-handled pliers (why must it still be a PAIR), a set of bar-be-que tongs (BBQ is such an interesting word. Remind me to Google that.).

None of the new stuff works. I finally go back to the screwdriver and fork, chasing the little black disk around the tank. Finally I find I can steer the disc with the screwdriver, trying to get it to rest on the fork. Because I can't get much angle, this is tough and takes many tries.

Finally, after working bent over looking in the tank for over half an hour, I finally manage to get the little circle resting on the fork, and gently extract it from the tank. Done and done. This is why I see in mind the African primates using their primitive tools, fishing like me. I fit the little black circle onto the mouth of the red gas can, and screwed the black cap over it. Somebody needs to fix this- maybe.

By the way, google's best explanation for BBQ is a translation of "sacred fire pit.". I would take some pig roasted in the ground anytime you want to make it. I'll clean my fork and tongs first, though - or get some new ones.