Filling Her In On Filling Up

My girlfriend and I are on our way from Maryland to New York City for a short vacation. By the time we are ready to check into our motel across the river in New Jersey, I’m pretty low on gas, and I decide to fill up before we check in so we don’t have to waste time doing so tomorrow when we start touring.

For those of you who don’t know, it used to be illegal nationwide for customers to pump their own fuel from gas stations; pumps weren’t as safe and reliable as they are now, so it was unsafe for untrained personnel to operate them. While most states have overturned the laws preventing gas pumps from being self-served, New Jersey and Oregon are the final holdouts that require it to be done by an attendant.

We pull into the station and I pull up to the pump closest to the man sitting in a chair in the middle of the station. I recognize him as the station attendant, but my girlfriend is, apparently, unfamiliar with this New Jersey law. The man is rather scruffy and I suppose he looks suspicious to a girl in a strange new city. As I pull up, he stands and looks down at me expectantly.

Girlfriend: *Alarmed* “Wait, don’t stop here! There’s some guy just sitting there! Why are you stopping by him?!”

Me: *Laughing* “That’s the gas station attendant. It is still illegal to pump your own gas in New Jersey and Oregon, so they have to have an employee do it.”

My girlfriend settles back in her seat and laughs sheepishly.

Girlfriend: “Oh…”

I roll down the window and hand the man my credit card.

Me: “Fill it up with regular, please.”