Ed and I had driven all day from Las Vegas to get to the Grand Canyon before nightfall. We got there just in time to look around, take some photographs, and consider our next move.
Then the oil pressure light came on, oops. The first part of the trip, I'd taken the time to check the oil every day, but I had become lazy about it over the few previous days. Fortunately, I had one quart of oil in the trunk. We poured it in and started down the road.
We eventually happened upon a gas station/general store on the highway running through the Navajo reservation. The proprietor was some Navajo guy who was nice enough not to gouge me when I asked to buy five quarts of oil.
His curiosity about what I was going to do with five quarts of oil must have gotten the better of him, because while pouring in the fourth quart, I noticed that he had come outside to see what we were doing.
After I finished pouring in the fifth quart, he finally asked, "How much oil does that car hold?"
"Five quarts," I said.
He walked away, just shaking his head.