ALLOW ME TO APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE, BUT A VIDEO WILL HAVE TO WAIT. BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS.. THIS BURDEN ON MY HEART WITH EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. RIGHT THIS VERY INSTANT.
Okay, so for those of you who don't know -- I'm from Jersey. Born and raised a Jersey girl. Now, when you think of people from Jersey, what is one of the FIRST things you think of?
We don't pump our own gas.
I've had people laugh when I tell them that, and their laugh implies something along the lines of "Stop being silly, what do you mean, you don't pump your own gas..?" I mean exactly what I said -- I don't pump my own gas. Never have and never planned to, until this year when I realized that having my car with me meant I'd have to learn how to do so otherwise I wouldn't be using my car much at all. Oh, fantastic.
I've driven around with my friends before and seen them pump their own gas, but it never really interested me. But when the realization hit that this is something that I need to be interested in, and fast, I called upon one of my good friends to aid me in my predicament. So my friend, Rachel, who is also a blogger and I went to educate myself on the art of pumping gas. Actually, she wanted to record me attempting to do so and post it on HER blog -- but I really didn't want the public humiliation. Anyway, so we went and she slowly walked me through the process.. which I still deem unnecessarily long (but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do). A full tank of gas lasts me about a week, with all the driving around I do.. so the next time I needed gas I immediately dialed Rachel's number and begged her to come with me once more. I think that by this point she has tagged along a handful of times, but oh, she has been perfectly lovely about it. Besides giggling when I get awkward and ask her which way I'm to twist the cap to get it off.
I mention all of this because I went to go pump my own gas ON MY OWN for the first time ever yesterday. It started off okay, I got the cap off without much of a problem and successfully swiped my card and all of that. Then I stuck the nozzle into the gas.. compartment.. and it wasn't too horrible at all until the gentleman at the next pump asked for my assistance regarding something that had nothing to do with the actual pumping itself. So I got sidetracked. In the end, I got in and out of my car a grand total of seven or eight times, one of them to grab the receipt I had forgotten I requested. Needless to say, I left the gas station feeling a tad foolish and unhappy, contemplating the illogical-ness of pumping one's own gas.
Then I decided that I will become an ambassador of good will and aid those future Jersey folks that I know will end up at PBU one day with their cars and teach them how to pump their own gas (I mean, once I am able to successfully do it on my own without too much mishap). I will not laugh at them, nor will I rebuke them when they need moral support for the first several times. So for all you Jersey people who have humored the idea of pumping gas before but never got around to it and have dreams of attending University in the good ol' state of Pennsylvania -- I will help you. Come to PBU, come to me! We will be victorious together at the gas pump.. then run back to Jersey and process the entire experience at a diner while eating cheese fries. Because that is what we DO.
