My truth is I’d rather pump my own gas — and I did the math

In 2004, Gov. Jim McGreevey stood before the state of New Jersey and said this:

"At a point in every person's life, one has to look deeply into the mirror of one's soul and decide one's unique truth in the world, not as we may want to see it or hope to see it, but as it is. And so my truth is…"

My truth is that I prefer to pump my own gas.

There. I said it.

I know what you are going to say. New Jersey has the second-lowest gas prices in the country because of the full-service model. The attendants are jobs. It is part of who we are. My father pumped gas. Leave it alone.

I have heard all of it. I have said some of it myself. And then I started timing myself at the pump.

The math that changed my mind

Last week I filled up at a Marathon station in Pennsylvania. Self-serve. From the moment I pulled up to the pump — card in, PIN entered, hit regular, filled up, hose back on the pump, receipt in hand, back in the car — two minutes and forty-four seconds had gone by.

This week I stopped at a Sunoco in Mercer County. Same sequence, except I waited for the attendant at the start and waited for him to come back with my receipt at the end. Four minutes and twenty-two seconds.

That is one minute and thirty-eight seconds per fill-up.

I fill up from a quarter tank roughly twice a week. That is three minutes and sixteen seconds every week. Across 52 weeks that is two hours and forty-nine minutes a year — just sitting at a gas pump waiting for someone to come back.

That is not nothing. That is an entire episode of a good show. That is a long lunch. That is time I will never get back, spent staring at the back of a Sunoco awning in Mercer County wondering if the attendant is coming back or if I should just get out and do it myself and then feel bad about it.

The specific stress of waiting at a NJ gas pump

Anyone who drives in New Jersey knows this feeling. You pull up, hand over your card, and the attendant disappears. Then you wait. Is he coming? Is she with another car? Should I beep? Can I beep? Is it rude to beep? Did they forget about me? Should I just reach out and take the nozzle myself? Can I get in trouble for that?

It is a low-grade, specific, entirely New Jersey form of stress. And it happens twice a week.

Don Draper said it best in Mad Men: "I have a life, and it only goes in one direction: forward."

I want to go forward. I want to put the nozzle back on the pump, get my receipt and drive away in two minutes and forty-four seconds. Instead I am sitting in a Sunoco in Mercer County negotiating silently with myself about the etiquette of an unattended gas pump

SEE ALSO: The cost of driving in NJ — 2026 breakdown 

Yes, the gas tax is higher in Pennsylvania

I know. I have done that math too. Pennsylvania's gas tax is higher than New Jersey's. The full-service model here is part of why our pump prices stay competitive. I am not pretending otherwise.

But here is what I have decided: the time savings is worth more to me than the per-gallon difference. Two hours and forty-nine minutes a year is a real number. And the stress of waiting — the specific low-grade anxiety of the unattended New Jersey pump — has a value too, even if I cannot put a dollar figure on it.

New Jersey is the only state in the country that still mandates full-service. Oregon went self-serve in 2023. We are the last one standing. The debate comes up every few years and goes nowhere because the politics of it are complicated and the attendant lobby is real and nobody wants to be the legislator who ended full-service gas in New Jersey.

I am not a legislator. I am a guy with a 57-mile commute who timed himself at two gas stations and did the math.

Two hours and forty-nine minutes a year. Just sitting there. Waiting.

Forward.