The most difficult part of living in Oregon is not being able to pump your own gas. I mean, I suppose it's a good thing.....no gas smell on your hands, or gas on your shoes. And it creates jobs (even if gas costs a little bit more).
The problems I have with this are the following:
I can pump my own gas. Even though it's illegal for me to do myself, I feel like it's something I have opted for, like valet at the mall, when there are plenty of parking spaces that I can easily park in and then walk a few extra steps to hang out with mallrats. So I just recline my seat, turn off my car and leisurely hand my card over saying fill er up. Midgrade even. If I'm feeling extra fancy. Sometimes they even take the liberty of cleaning my windshield for me. Which is nice, but it's not like I ever have cash to tip them, and just adds to me feeling ridiculous for making them pump my gas for me.
Really, I feel like Hardy in Some Kind of Wonderful being a jerk and showing off with Amanda Jones while Keith is trying to pump his gas. And let's face it. None of us want to be Hardy.
In other news, I successfully had my gas tank filled up by myself in Oregon for the first and still only time the other week. With some help from the dude that actually pumped the gas, of course.