Crude

Fifty-eight dollars and twenty-five cents! The damage incurred by filling up yesterday represents music I won't purchase, Boulevard I won't consume and a new book I can't afford. I was so stunned that I drove off without replacing my sedan's gas cap. A good Samaritan notified me of my error a few blocks from the filling station. When I turned on to a side street, the cap slid off the trunk, rolled along a gutter and dropped into a sewer well. Too fat burly to squeeze inside the revolting chamber, I was forced to recruit an associate to retrieve the cap.