Friday, October 16, 2009
I hate full service gas stations, I hate them with passion equal to the hatred of the Papel-boner. Everytime you pull into a gas station in New Jersey you think to yourself, damn this is sweet. It's 2.30$ a gallon in Jersey and 2.75$ a gallon in Southern CT. But then you pull up the pump and wait. And then you wait some more. And then the gas clerk asks you to drive your car up to the next pump as he finishes pumping someone else's gas. Then he finally meanders his way to your car and asks you in some language that certainly isn't english how much you want and what kind you want. When you say "fill it with regular", he says "Regulah?" because not only does he not speak english but he can't understand you either. Than he puts the gas pump into your tank, locks it up, and walks away.
[Gas Fills... and Done]
And now you sit in your car saying to yourself my gas is done pumping, can you just pull the damn pump out of the tank, make me sign a receipt and let me get back on your miserable highway. But instead of instant help, you watch him talking to his gas station co-workers who also are lazy as fuck. Eventually after like 3 minutes he comes back to your car says something again non-English that means "Do you want a receipt?" After a few uncomfortable exchanges you finally get to leave, 10 minutes later and now pissed off. And you're still on the Jersey Turnpike.
I CAN PUMP MY OWN FUCKING GAS... I hate you Jersey.