You know what frosts my flakes?
Listening to commercials at gas pumps.
Who came up with this silly idea in the first place?
There I am, standing outside in the wind, trying to pump gas into my car without taking out a second mortgage, and suddenly the pump starts yelling at me.
“Hey there, valued customer! While you’re trapped here holding this nozzle, would you like to hear about snacks, lottery tickets, credit cards, car washes and a limited-time offer on beef jerky?”
No. I would not. I would like two minutes of peace.
I don’t need entertainment while pumping gas. Nor do I need breaking news from a tiny television screen covered in fingerprints. I certainly don’t need a cheerful voice telling me about a two-for-one hot dog special while I’m watching numbers on the pump spin like a slot machine.
Gas pumps used to be simple. You pulled up. You got out. You pumped gas. You complained about the price, then you left. It was a sacred American ritual.
Now it feels like I’m being held hostage by a convenience store infomercial. And the worst part is you can’t escape it.
You look away, but you can still hear it. If you turn your head, it gets louder.
You start pressing random buttons hoping one of them will mute the damn thing. Suddenly, you’re afraid you accidentally signed up for a rewards program, bought a car wash or agreed to receive promotional text messages until the Second Coming.
Who decided every quiet moment in life had to be monetized?
We already have commercials on television and the radio. We have pop-up ads online, sponsored posts on social media, ads before videos, ads during videos and ads after videos.
Now we can’t even stand next to our vehicles inhaling gasoline fumes in peace?
Enough already. There should be some places in life where advertisers are not allowed to follow us and gas pumps should be at the top of that list.
Bathrooms should be another, but don’t give them any ideas. Guys can’t even pee in peace anymore without staring at an advertisement at eye level over the urinals.
What’s next? A toaster that won’t release your bagel until you watch a 15-second ad for online insurance?
We are one step away from having commercials on church offering plates.
“Before you place your donation in the basket, this moment is brought to you by Carl’s Discount Tires.” Or, if you don’t put anything in the plate, you get a commercial about financial planning.
No thank you. I don’t want every second of my day filled with noise, sales pitches and people trying to separate me from whatever money I have left after buying gas.
Sometimes silence is the product, and I would gladly pay extra for that.
Just give me a gas pump with three options: regular, premium and blessed quiet.
I am Grandpa Grumpy, and when a man is already paying $60 to fill his tank, the least you can do is let him suffer in silence.