Gas Stations

A few weekends ago, Chris and I went to New Jersey to visit Katie and John.  It was a blast and it was so good to be around family.  

Not thinking about it, we left town right after I got home from school, around 4:30.  DUMB! We hit two rush hours.. one in DC and one in Baltimore.  Luckily the drive was beautiful with all the leaves changing, but still... the traffic was terrible.

I think our GPS took us on every toll road from here to Princeton.  When all was said and done, we spent $13.50 on tolls.... wow.

So we get to the beautiful garden state and we realize that we needed some gas.  We pulled off at the nearest turnpike station and realized that you cannot pump your own gas.  The entire state has unionized gas pumpers... seriously?  I don't really know how I would feel if my job was completely useless.  That may sound harsh, but all they did was take our card, pump the gas, and hand us our receipt.  Plus they took forever and Chris is still convinced that they were selling drugs to some guy in front of us.

ps... do we tip these people?  I kind of feel the same way about this as I do tipping the bathroom attendant...

pps... a blog about our wonderful Princeton trip is coming.  I just had to get that off my chest... :)