HUMOR
What I, A Person From New Jersey, Imagine Will Happen When I Pump My Own Gas
I will put the gas pump in the wrong car hole.
Written by Deborah Volz and Susan Sassi
I won’t be able to turn the pump on and it will be embarrassing.
I’ll get out of my car and everyone will see me in my cat fur-covered pajamas.
Someone will overhear my gas-pumping pep talk: You are smart, you are beautiful, you are not going to light this gas station on fire.
I will put the gas pump in the wrong car hole. (The muffler, maybe?)
Not wanting to appear clueless, I will queue up a Youtube video called: “EASIEST ways to pump gas, 2023” but my phone will still be connected to Bluetooth and an ad for butt acne body wash will blast from the car’s speakers.
I won’t stop the pump in time, the tank will overfill, and I’ll have to pay for the overages.
I’ll forget that there’s no gas station attendant, and I will give my credit card to a random person walking by. It will take me 15 minutes to realize they aren’t coming back.
The pump’s latch will be broken and I’ll have to hold the trigger down the whole time. I will then develop the world’s fastest case of carpal tunnel and will never be able to fulfill my dream of becoming an Olympic baton twirler.
I will forget I’m not in New Jersey, the only state where it’s illegal to pump your own gas. I will assume my gas-pumping offense makes me a hardened criminal so I will rob nearby banks because I have nothing to lose. Then I’ll black out and wake up in a pit naked and confused.
I will pull the gas nozzle out too early and gasoline will cascade onto my clothes. And I’ll probably be traveling to a wedding or something and won’t have a change of clothes so I’ll be that guest–the one that smells like gasoline!
I will park my car too far away from the gas pump, then when I redo it I will somehow be too close. A pack of super cool teenagers will cackle and say I need to have my license taken away.
Mass chaos will break out. Street fights. Women screaming. The Jersey Devil will eat small children.
I’ll smell really bad.
I will psych myself up to go inside the convenience store and ask for “20 dollars on pump 9.” The employee will tell me that no one has come inside to pay since 1997. Everyone will laugh.
I will tell a joke to the people pumping gas next to me. Maybe something like: “Is this thing pumping hard or hardly pumping?!” No one will laugh.
