Full Service

Yesterday I tweeted about the kid at the gas station who filled up my tank.  He was chatty and it turns out that he is a fan of Free-FM. No one disputed that – our station is terrific – but there was some humour regarding the full service gas station. 

I don’t remember seeing anything but self-serve when I lived in Toronto and I suppose it sounds rather quaint to refer to full-serve anymore.  It brings to mind the old ads featuring a man dressed all in white and with a tip of the hat he’d ask, “Fill ‘er up Ma’am?”  It’s not quite like that anymore but we have two gas stations in little Byron, a ‘burb of London, that are full-service. They will fill ‘er up and check your oil and fill up your washer fluid and even change a windshield wiper. The one closest to us is under construction right now to expand it.

They recently pulled all of the self-serve checkout lanes out of one of the Walmarts here  And these full serve stations are thriving. Does it mean anything much? Not really I suppose.  The world is still moving away from the human touch to the machine.  I actually like the self-serve lanes at some of the bigger stores especially if I’m just getting one or two things.  But when it comes to pumping gas, I’d rather have a dude do it for me.  And if it helps keep that dude employed, even better.

 

3 thoughts on “Full Service”

  1. If you were a person with a disability, say a paraplegic requiring the use of a wheelchair, how would you fill your tank at a self serve station?

    This is a dilemma which confronts those Canadians with this type of medical condition on a daily bases as full service stations become increasingly rare. How do I fill up my vehicle.

    Walk a mile in their wheels, and self serve isn’t all that great, with serious social short comings.

  2. I worked a full service gas station when I lived in Fergus… in fact, I hold the title of being the first female to ever work a full service gas station in that town. 😉

    1. Wow – that’s a claim to fame for womankind. My friend Corinne worked at a full service station just outside of our town of Smithville and she was so embarrassed (I can’t remember why) that she used to pull her hat down over her face when she served someone from our school! haha.

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