Housewives in hair curlers knit sweaters at the wheels of then-station wagons in the predawn blackness of Miami. Young couples in Manhattan, armed with sandwiches and hot chocolate, invite friends along for an evening of gasoline shopping. Connecticut executives regale each other with lurid tales of mile-long queues and two-hour waits at the pump. Otherwise sane citizens are in the cold grip of the nation's newest obsession: gasoline fever.
As supplies tighten in many parts of the country, people are wondering where their next gallon is coming from. Motorists are cruising the...
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