I'm From New Jersey

If you’re reading this, you are most likely from New Jersey, and you know that in New Jersey, every gas station is full service. Being in New York and all, I remembered that all they have here is weak sauce (yeah I say that now too) self-service. I’ll admit, I’ve pumped my own gas before, but every time in the past, I just put my card in the pump and gas comes out. Simple.

But at this particular gas station, you’re supposed to pay inside and then pump your gas. So I walk in the door and nonchalantly say, “Yeah let me get 60 dollars on pump 2.” I walk back to the pump, and I just draw a blank. I’m standing there pushing the button for the gas I want, but nothing is happening. What the hell?

I wait another few minutes, thinking that maybe the guy just hasn’t activated the pump yet. Is that what they do back there? I just imagine this guy like, “Pump Two, GOOOOO!” and waving his fingers at the machine or something.

I punch the button a couple more times just for good measure, then stroll around to peak at the other pumps. Maybe the guy (I’ve by now dubbed the gas person “the guy”) activated the wrong pump or something. Nothing.

As the self-consciousness sets deep inside me, the guy walks out to me and asks me what the hell I’m just standing around for. “Uh. Umm. Let’s see…” And I say the first thing that comes to my mind.


"I'm from New Jersey." What does that even mean? Is that the new excuse for being socially awkward? As he walked away (confused), I realized that there were steps and pictures on the machine clearly explaining how to operate the damn thing. Nice.

So gas is finally flowing into the abyss that is my gas tank, and I'm looking up at the screen. 10 gallons. 12 gallons. 15 gallons. Shit, how much does this car hold? 15 gallons and I'm only at $45. Then I'm wondering if the gas keeps coming out until $60 is reached. I don't think my car can hold that much. In a panic, I begin running through the possible scenarios in my head.

Well in the end, it all worked out because the pump stopped at $60, and gas didn't come exploding into my face or anything. So this story isn't actually as interesting as it could have been. But just imagine...

Moral of the story is: Gas should always be pumped by a professional, and I wish I knew how gas stations worked.