The Tank

My propane has run out in the middle of a cook four times. Always with guests. Always with the burgers done on one side, so I've got a grill that's both hot and not.

So I came up with a system. Two tanks. When one runs out, I swap it and put a piece of masking tape on the empty one, so I remember to get it filled.

It's a great system. I should've thought of a second part.

In March I got the empty one filled and forgot to take the tape off. Now I've got a full tank marked empty and an empty tank marked nothing, and I don't know which one's the honest one.

And here's the thing about propane. You can't see it. It's just in there, in the steel, and you have to take its word. It's the only thing at the cookout you trust without any evidence, and I'm in charge of it.

I lifted both tanks. One felt lighter. But I've been lifting those tanks for six years, and I could be wrong about what lighter is.

So I bought a third tank. It's in the garage, with a note on it that says, "FULL (I watched)."