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There are two full service stations in my town that I'm aware of.
My mother still hasn't learned how to pump her own gas, and it doesn't seem likely she ever will at this point. The increasing rarity of full service gas stations causes her much distress. There have been times in the past when she's given me her car specifically so that I could fill it up for her.
Admission:
Self-service checkouts stymie me. It's a bit of an embarrassment; I'm normally very technically adept, and to date there have been very few pieces of technology that I haven't been able to figure out given a few minutes of play time. Self-service checkouts remain to this day one of the very few exceptions to this. I just can't seem to get them to work properly.
Plus, I like talking to the cashiers. They're often female, and frequently young and cute. It gives me a chance to be Charming, and I revel in such opportunities. I'm conceited that way.
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I wake up in the morning more tired than before I slept
I get through cryin' and I'm sadder than before I wept
I get through thinkin' now, and the thoughts have left my head
I get through speakin' and I can't remember, not a word that I said
- Ben Harper, Show Me A Little Shame
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