I swear, I am a relatively intelligent person

At the risk of losing the respect of all of my "Britt Goes to Pitt" readers, I must share with you a story.

On my way back to Pittsburgh following a fabulous Thanksgiving weekend, I stopped at the Flying J, a gas station that lies just outside of the Columbus eastern suburbs and is notoriously much cheaper than all others.  I pulled up to a pump, popped open my gas cap, and swiped my credit card.

My stingy VW Beetle requires that I use the 89 gas instead of the standard 87 gas.  So, when the machine prompted me to "LIFT NOZZLE AND SELECT PRODUCT," I lifted the nozzle and pushed "89."  Nothing happend.  I pushed 89 harder.  Still nothing happened.  Thinking (for really no good reason), that maybe my freezing hands were the cause of the problem, I rubbed them together and blew some warm air on them and tried again.  Once again, nothing.

I was feeling frustrated, and decided that another machine would probably be better.  Giving up, I pushed the cancel button.  Nothing happened.

Antsy, I locked my car and headed into the gas station.  There, I encountered a friendly young gas station attendant who could sense my palpable frustration.

Here's how our conversation went:
Friendly clerk - Can you I help you ma'am? (Note - I HATE being called ma'am.  I am 22, not 42.)
Me (for some reason I talked even faster than normal) - I-think-there's-a-problem-with-my-pump-because-I-can't-push-89-and-I-can't-push-cancel.
Friendly clerk - Which pump is giving you trouble?
Me - I-don't-know-exactly-but-my-car-is-that-blue-one-right-there.
Friendly clerk - OK, let's go take a look.

We walked to my car

Friendly clerk - Can you show me what you tried to do.
Me - OK, sure.

I lifted the pump and tried pushing the button.  Nothing happened him.  I looked at him triumphantly, practically proclaiming "See, it's not working!"

The friendly clerk chuckled a little big, and said, "Ma'am that's the diesel pump, you want this one."  He pointed from the green pump that I was holding that CLEARLY said DIESEL, to a black one that did not.

All I could manage was a thank you.  I pumped my gas in shame and got the heck out of there.  Even though the gas is cheap, I may not be able to show my face at the Flying J for awhile.