I Pump My Own Gas

Apparently Jenn and I needed a little laughter in our life today…so we went to get some gasoline for ole Rondee.

We pull up at Dillons and I get out and start the process of pumping my own gas.

“Hey Baby girl I get that”

“Baby girl I get that for ya”

Jody: “Uh I’m sorry are you talking to me”

Ghetto Fool: Leaning across the front seat of the car next to me “Hey baby girl what you doing. I said I’ld get that for you”

Me: “Well obviously you didn’t mean it since I have already done all the hard part”

GF: “What’s your name girl”

Me: “Jody”

GF: “Ah…where yo boi at girl?”

Me: “Um…I’m here pumping my own gas”

GF: “Ooooooo so can I get yo number”

Me: “You think I’m gonna give you my number after I pumped my own gas. I dont’ need you to have my number.”

GF: gets out of his car to come “help me”

Me: “Uh…the work is already done. You missed out.”

GF: “Well, you need some air in yo tires? Anything? …..So I cant’ get your number”

Me: “No you don’t have game…you have half a game and I’m just fine without it”

GF: “ok well I try again tomorrow Baby Girl..right here same time”


I Pump My Own Gas

7 thoughts on “I Pump My Own Gas

  1. Darcie says:

    I don’t know what’s better-the story or the fact that you called him “Ghetto Fool.”. Love it! (And I’m sorry you had to pump your own gas)

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