Yeah, I was caught off guard when an attendant insisted on pumping my gas during a road trip through NJ. It wasn't a crisp, uniformed team of smiling young attendants eager to wipe my windshield and check my oil and tire pressure, like you see in movies from the 50s. It was a bitter old dude who reluctantly got up out of a chair and who wouldn't let me near the pump. It seemed like some sort of union gig or something. I'm not sure why, but I would have preferred to just pump my own. I'm not used to having an attendant, although I vaguely remember them from when I was a kid.
This.