There’s something so cool about New Jersey, aside from the food and the accents. You don’t have to pump your own gas. Like it’s a rule. They’ll yell at you if you even try to. You stay in your car, roll down the window and say “filler up regular” and you can do stuff for a few minutes. I mean nothing grueling. Check your bank balances maybe. Hitch up your jeans.
But since I’m soon moving out of the state, I cannot believe I’ll actually have to get out of the car and pump the gasoline myself. I mean how barbaric is that. Why not just throw a leash on me and I’ll bark at the moon. Unreal. I don’t want gasoline finger nails. Gross. And when you’re standing there doing the pumping, like what else can you do? Strike a pose and squeeze. That’s it.
It’s bad enough that now you have to scan and bag your groceries and certain bar codes are just plain tricky. We have to do everything lately. Except thank god not toss coins at a toll booth. EZ Pass is where it’s at. Hell I barely slow down and glance in judgment at those still crawling along in the coin toss lanes. I mean come on.
But gasoline. That’s someone else’s job. So I urge all state Governors take a hint from the Garden State and change the strategy. You’ll produce new jobs. Your constituency is gonna be totally with you and hey every vote counts. And man I guess I really will miss the diners. Where else can you go to eat and order anything you want and it’s ready in ten minutes. I mean that’s amazing.
And don’t get me started on the Tapioca Pudding with whipped cream.