Guzzling gas and soda: A comparison

Posted on Sep 24, 2014 by headinablender

Last month, whilst in Vegas visiting the in-laws, my wife and I stopped for gas (or ‘petrol’ as it’s known in the civilised world). The way they ‘pump gas’ in America is in complete contrast to how we do it in the UK.

Here we drive up to the pump, get out of the car, open the petrol cap and start filling. When we’re finished we head into the shop and pay for it. In America they drive up to the pump (from any entrance I might add; none of this ‘way in’ and ‘way out’ bollocks), go into the shop, pay in advance for fuel (and snacks and beverages) and then head back to their vehicle and fill up.

The American approach comes with two pros and a con.

Pro number 1 – If you decide you want to spend $30 on gas (petrol), you pay the clerk in the shop and your pump is credited with exactly $30. There’s no chance of putting in more than you can afford. And on top of this, you can clip the trigger in position and leave it pumping fuel knowing you will never put in more than you want to spend.

Genius.

Why aren’t we doing this?

It saves on hand strain and gives you more time to do other things, like eating.

If you then discover that your tank only needed, say, $25 worth of gas (petrol) you go back inside and the clerk behind the counter gives you back the difference.

Simple.

Pro number 2 – There’s no chance of people filling up and then not having the means to pay, or filling up and fucking off.

It’s a bit like prostitution but with pumps instead of pimps.

Con – You don’t get to play the ‘Petrol Pump Game’.

The what?

Allow me to elaborate. Let’s say you want to put £30 of fuel in your vehicle’s tank. You start filling up until the price gets to somewhere around £29.85 at which point you ease off the trigger, slowing down the pumping speed.

(He he)

Then you start to adopt the technique of squeezing the trigger gently at little intervals to hit the price exactly at £30.

£29.85

Gentle squeeze.

£29.91

Gentle squeeze.

£29.95

Very gentle squeeze.

£29.96

Very gentle squeeze.

£29.97

VERY gentle squeeze.

£29.99

A squeeze so gentle it wouldn’t pop a soapy bubble even if your fingers were covered in coarse sand.

£30.01

Bollocks!

You then decide to go to £31.

Squeeze.

£30.85

Gentle squeeze.

£30.91

Very gentle squeeze.

£30.97

VERY gentle squeeze.

£30.98

A squeeze so gentle it can’t be measured at a microscopic level.

£31.01

Fuuuuuuck!!

This continues until you either:

Finally hit a round number.
Admit defeat and pay the extra penny, convinced the clerk is laughing at you behind those eyes.
Fill your tank.

It’s not a great game and can be quite costly, but there’s no feeling like hitting the price dead on, first time. I’ve been known to let out the occasional air grab, sometimes accompanied by an “Aww Yeah!”

Anyway, whilst at the gas (petrol) station in Vegas I decided to get a drink because it was a very hot day, or as the locals call it; “a day”. I was expecting to see a few fridges full of various beverages, the brands of which I’d never heard of, but nothing could prepare me for the sheer choice of refreshments available to me.

As well as the aforementioned fridges full to the brim with beer, wine, sodas (soft drinks) and so on, there were also aisles (plural!) of crisps (chips), nuts, beef jerky, slim jims (Peperami), candy (sweets and chocolate), cakes, sandwiches, cereals and other brightly coloured bags of chemicals and deliciousness too numerous to mention.

Most of these on a ridiculously huge scale!

And it didn’t stop there. There was a hot counter that had burgers, hot dogs, burritos, nachos, pies and pasties (the UK word for a type of pie and not the US word for a small plastic nipple hat)

In addition there was a coffee station that had more options than a Starbucks, a milkshake station that not only allowed you to choose your flavour(s) but also how thick you wanted it, a massive slushy machine with various flavours and the most amazing machine I’d ever seen; a touch screen soda dispenser with an overload of choices.

Oh, and everything was self-serve.

So let me tell you about this epic soda machine.

Firstly you’re presented with a screen with 24 choices of beverage.

That’s 24.

This is a significantly larger choice of drinks than any dispenser I’ve ever seen in the UK, which usually consist of Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite and Fanta.

That’s 4.

It’s an impressive choice but I wasn’t surprised at all because it’s what I expected from an American soda machine. I selected Caffeine Free Diet Coke and prepared to fill up my oversized 64oz (approx 2 litre) plastic cup.

But no, there was another layer of choices awaiting me.

Yes, that’s right. I could have…

Cherry
Orange
Vanilla
Raspberry
Lime
Cherry Vanilla

…versions of Caffeine Free Diet Coke.

What the hell?? That’s AWESOME!

This got me thinking, is it the same for other drinks?

Yep.

Orange Fanta Zero comes with the option of:

Cherry
Strawberry
Raspberry
Grape
Lime
Fruit Punch
Peach

Lemonade comes with the option of:

Cherry
Orange
Strawberry
Raspberry
Fruit Punch

Even Ginger Ale gets a flavour makeover:

Orange
Cherry
Vanilla
Lime
Raspberry

My wife wanted Dr.Pepper and she had the choices of Cherry Dr.Pepper or Cherry Vanilla Dr.Pepper in addition to the (now somewhat boring) regular Dr.Pepper.

I’d never seen anything like it.

And yet, with all the awesome innovations in convenience and technology, the Americans STILL don’t appreciate the importance of privacy in the toilet!

“Peek-a-boo! I see poo!”

Are we becoming a nation of idiots?

Posted on Aug 22, 2014 by headinablender

In the past I used to believe that America was home to some of the dumbest people on the planet. After all, they have no clue about anything outside America and their grasp of sarcasm and humour (or ‘humor’) is as tight as a slut’s vagina.

But after meeting my wife, who is from Las Vegas, I’ve had a lot more exposure to them (Americans, not sluts’ vaginas) and I’ve come to realise that this belief isn’t true. I mean, it’s true of a lot of Americans, but it’s not fair to tar them all with the same brush.

Since my wife came to England I’ve started seeing the country through her eyes and cracks are beginning to form. I’m slowly noticing that we are a lot more flawed as a nation than I realised, or cared to admit. It’s like peeking behind the curtain at a magic show to see levers, pulleys and a white rabbit taking a colossal dump into a top hat.

England is also home to some of the dumbest people on the planet.

Case in point:

Last night, on the London Underground, my wife and I got off the train at Victoria station and shuffled with the masses towards the two upward escalators leading to the surface. There were two guys in front of us and as we approached the escalators, one of the guys took the left escalator and the other took the right.

Neither of us paid any attention until one of the guys started talking to the other. With a distance of around six feet between them and the combined noise of the escalator and the throng of chatting commuters, I should say one started shouting to the other.

Guy 1 – “So what happened next?”

Guy 2 – “What?”

Guy 1 – “I SAID, WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?”

Guy 2 – “Oh, right. Well she decided she was going to work Saturday instead”

Guy 1 – “She was going to what?”

Guy 2 – “PARDON?”

Guy 1 – “SHE WAS GOING TO WHAT?”

Guy 2 – “WORK SATURDAY INSTEAD!”

Guy 1 – “AH, I THOUGHT SHE MIGHT”

Guy 2 – “WHAT?”

I couldn’t believe it. These two guys were together! It wasn’t that busy in the station which meant they weren’t herded accidentally onto separate escalators; they’d CHOSEN to do that.

I looked back at my wife who was staring at them in disbelief. She looked back at me, rolled her eyes and mouthed the words “Why the fuck?”

As we reached the top of the escalator my wife shared her thoughts with me.

For fuck’s sake England!

When an American living here rants about the sheer stupidity of people around her, it’s time to sit up and pay attention.

Shit down and shut up

Posted on Aug 12, 2014 by headinablender

My wife and I were in a mall in Vegas shortly after breakfast and, as we meandered around the shops I didn’t recognise, I suddenly felt the playdough effect kicking in.

Basically, a turd was imminent.

So I hobbled to the ‘Restroom’ to do anything but rest. I walked in and there were two empty cubicles (or ‘stalls’) along with three urinals, all of which were occupied.

No problem, this was going to be a sit down performance anyway.

I went into the first cubicle, locked the door (although it made no difference to my privacy with the gaps around the door) and dropped my shorts for the big performance.

I just had to make sure I didn’t make too much noise as it was very quiet in there.

I started clenching and relaxing at the same time.

Got to be quiet.

There was a pause and all that could be heard were three streams of piss on porcelain.

Got. To. Be. Quiet.

Ha, no chance. My arse decided to sound like the final squeeze of a ketchup bottle.

I waited 5 minutes after I was finished before leaving the cubicle.

If you’ll notice this notice, you’ll notice this notice is not worth noticing

Posted on Aug 11, 2014 by headinablender

My wife and I visited Sears yesterday during our visit to Vegas, mostly because I’d never been and I’m a curious bugger.

Being almost 6pm on a Sunday, the Brit in me was pretty convinced it would be closed.

I was wrong of course.

As we approached the entrance I saw the sign that displayed the store’s opening times. It read:

Mon 10.00am to 9.00pm
Tue 10.00am to 9.00pm
Wed 10.00am to 9.00pm
Thu 10.00am to 9.00pm
Fri 10.00am to 9.00pm
Sat 10.00am to 9.00pm
Sun 10.00am to 9.00pm

So, the same time EVERY DAY then?

What a lot of unnecessary effort.

Only in America.

A game with big shiny helmets

Posted on Jun 24, 2014 by headinablender

Despite the world cup going on at the moment, I’m really finding a new love for American Football.

I’ve never been a fan of regular football (or ‘soccer’ as the Americans call it, but let’s be honest, its played with the feet; it’s football), but I really am loving the overly padded brutality of American football (or ‘football’ as the Americans call it, obviously because it’s played with their hands).

That said, I still can’t stop sniggering (or ‘snickering’ if you’re an American, or a lover of chocolate bars) at some of the things the commentators say.

Sure, there are plenty of chuckles to be had at “Nice solid tackle” and “Reached up and grabbed the ball” etc, but I was NOT expecting this…

“They had a tight end split wide”

Brilliant.

Just brilliant.

This Conversation Literally Moved Me

Posted on Jun 9, 2014 by headinablender

This morning my wife and I attempted to sleep off a weekend hangover on the train.

We’d just managed to start snoozing when a loud mature American couple boarded at Gatwick Airport. Not only were they talking loudly to each other, it seems they’d also struck up a loud conversation with a loud Canadian student who had boarded with them and they had all taken a seat (loudly) on our quiet carriage.

This will go down well.

Not only was their conversation loud, it was boring…..its way into my skull. They were talking about how old the student looked compared to her actual age.

“Oh my Gaad, you do NOT look 31 years old does she Bob!?”

“No Fran, she does not!”, turns to student, “You do NOT look 31 years old!”

They asked her what she was studying (Accountancy), where she was from (Calgary) and even drew comparisons between her and their children. If I’m honest, comparing this 31 year old Asian girl from Canada to Bob and Fran’s 25 year old Caucasian daughter felt a little shoehorned into the conversation because, god forbid, Americans don’t talk about themselves.

In fact, an American’s favourite word is ‘I’…..oh, and “fries”.

It was at this moment my American wife became a full bonefide Brit.

She turned to me, rolled her eyes and said “let’s move carriages; I can’t deal with this shit, especially first thing on a Monday morning”.

It worked for me….just like the ‘fanny packs’ and socks/sandals combo didn’t.

Common sense gets the shaft.

Posted on Feb 26, 2014 by headinablender

This morning at Goodge Street Underground station I heard the following announcement:

“Ladies and Gentlemen; please be aware that lift number four is currently out of service while we perform essential routine maintenance”.

Fair enough.

There are no escalators at Goodge Street station but there are four lifts*, so we’d either use one of the three remaining lifts or take the spiral stairs to the surface; all 136 of them.

Fuck. That.

But the announcement didn’t stop there (although I wish it had); “Please use the remaining lifts one to three, or take the spiral stairs”.

Oh my god I am so thankful they told us that otherwise we could’ve been stuck down there for days.

*Or ‘elevators’ to our American brethren who may be confused**

**At the word ‘lift’.

I can’t brielieve it

Posted on Aug 12, 2013 by headinablender

During my visit to America I was introduced to a food that I didn’t realise existed.

Just when I thought the United States couldn’t produce anything more ridiculously calorific I was introduced to…..

‘Cheese On A Stick’

I’m serious. Cheese….on a stick.

Cheese….on a fucking STICK!

There are lots of foods that work well on a stick such as kebabs, ice lollies, marshmallows etc., but not cheese; unless it’s accompanied by a chunk of pineapple and poking out of a potato covered in foil at a 1980s buffet.

But did it stop there? No. The Americans decided that ‘cheese on a stick’ should be dipped in batter and deep fried.

Are you shitting me?

Someone should warn these people before they get fat.

Interestingly, as we walked out of the food court (and I use the word ‘food’ loosely), I saw a very overweight couple stood at ‘The Cajun Grill’ ordering, well, everything it seemed.

The young guy behind the counter should’ve refused them service and said “No! Baaaad fatties!” and sprayed them with water.

That would’ve confused them because no-one in the U.S. food industry uses the word “No” and fatties don’t recognise water.

Yanky wank

Posted on Jul 2, 2013 by headinablender

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything…and this is primarily due to being in Las Vegas for the last week or so.

Never a bad thing.

The main reason for the visit was a stag do, but this soon became one of two reasons as my trip was extended so I could spend time with a gorgeous woman I’d met on my last visit back in March.

Despite the fact we’d emailed a lot, facebooked a lot and Skyped a lot, whenever I told people why I was extending my trip it was always met with a big twatty grin, eyebrows on bungee ropes and comments like “wahey!”, “I just bet you are!” and “get in there sunshine!”

These were sometimes accompanied with a nudging elbow to the ribs.

But I’m not going to into that (pun intended?)

So anyway…

Whilst on the stag do we were stood in the hotel discussing the toilet facilities in America; particularly how wide the gap is between the stall doors and the stall itself.

See https://headinablender.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/bathroom-rage/

It was at this point that one of the guys said, “I know; it makes it almost impossible to have a wank”.

I laughed so violently I actually needed to visit these generously gapped rooms of self relief myself!

His answer was worryingly quick and casual.

And to think I shook his hand at the end of the trip.

Costa fficient?

Posted on Dec 18, 2012 by headinablender

I’m sat on the train to work and I’m thinking about my time in the US, particularly the stupidity and arrogance of the indigenous people therein.

Firstly, how can they claim their store, business or product is ‘World Famous’ when it clearly isn’t? I hate to break it to you America, but your ‘World Famous Pancake Combos’ are only known amongst the heavier majority of your fine nation, not the world. It’s true, I checked. I asked my mum and she’d never heard of them.

Whilst on the subject, what’s with the World Series of baseball? I believe that’s just you guys too….

But the arrogance is tolerable; it’s the stupidity that I find fascinating.

Point in question; we went for a morning bagel and coffee one morning. The bagel shop seemed nice enough; complete with staff who didn’t get our British humour or sarcasm but were happy to smile nonetheless.

They were selling coffee in three sizes; small, medium and large. Now that may seem normal and sensible until you consider this….

They were all free refills.

Killing him softly….

Posted on Dec 15, 2012 by headinablender

My dodgy stomach has been no fun on this trip. When I finally made it through all the security checks at Orlando International airport, I made a dash to the mens room for the inevitable.

Having negotiated all the same wet toilet seat issues from my blog on the 11th of December, I sat down to my Jamaican attraction; Dung River Falls.

I flushed, stood up, wiped my brow, caught my breath and my balance, unlocked the stall with the massive gaps (11th Dec blog) and opened the door.

Oh no.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

There was a guy waiting for an empty stall, and I’d just vacated one.

I looked at him with a sense of sadness and guilt. I wanted to hug him and, whilst holding back tears, wish him good luck.

His family are going to miss him.

Jingle bells, Batman smells….etc…

Posted on Dec 15, 2012 by headinablender

It’s nearing Christmas, so it’s expected that there would be Christmas songs playing in every shop and mall in the USA, but this is where the Americans get it right.

It’s all songs like “Let it snow”, “Have yourself a merry Christmas” and “White Christmas”. There’s no sign of George Michael, Band Aid or (bloody, f’ing, frigging, sodding) Slade anywhere.

For this I’ll forgive them saying “Happy holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”.

A real OxyMoron

Posted on Dec 13, 2012 by headinablender

Whilst in the restrooms at Epcot, washing my hands, I noticed the big, intimidating, scary looking Hispanic dude at the next sink was wearing a pair of Minnie ears.

I didn’t really know how to react.

Laughing was definitely not one of my options though.

Exit left, right?

Posted on Dec 13, 2012 by headinablender

Today we visited Disney World in Orlando. It was an expected series of events including a lot of ‘cast members’ with coat hanger smiles, planetoid sized people with huge buckets of full fat Coke and loads of able bodied lazy fuckers on rented mobility scooters; hacking their way through the crowds like the bulls in Pamplona.

But the best part of the day by far was when we were due to get off the car park transfer at Hollywood Studios. We started to slow down and the cheesy American voice announced that we were to disembark on the right.

No problem.

She then re-confirmed it was on the right.

Ok, fair enough.

Then she re-re-confirmed it was on the right.

Really? I suppose this is for the American market.

She then said “that’s the same side as the sidewalk and the trash cans”

I think my I.Q. just dropped a few points.

Bathroom Rage!

Posted on Dec 11, 2012 by headinablender

On our drive from Miami to Orlando we decided to stop off at a service station to stretch our legs, although we all knew that the real reason was the driver’s need for nicotine and caffeine. He was threatening to get a little punchy, and no-one wanted that from the man with his feet on the pedals.

We parked up, got out, stretched our legs and proceeded into the air conditioned building filled with far too many kids bereft of guardians.

As our driver made a beeline for Dunkin’ Donuts, I decided to visit the toilet as I’d had a dull ache in my stomach since breakfast that indicated the approach of my own Dunkin’ Donut.

I looked for the restrooms, or washrooms, or bathrooms, despite there not being a bathtub in sight nor anywhere to sit and rest.

Well, that’s not entirely true, so I found an empty stall. I cautiously peered inside and found nothing that resembled an explosion at the Cadbury factory, so I confidently stepped inside and locked the door behind me; not that it mattered considering I could still be seen by anyone walking past. More on this shortly.

I lowered the toilet seat and, yes you guessed it, it was covered in delightful drops of yellow. Why do people use the stalls to have a piss when there are loads of urinals? It’s selfish to those needing to cut off some bum rope as it’s not like we can cop a squat in a urinal is it? If you absolutely HAVE to use the stall at least lift the seat, or get a better aim, or a longer penis.

It was at this point I let out a very audible sigh which would usually cause others, who were possibly resting or bathing, to wonder what I was doing in there.

Not in America.

No, in America the toilet cubicles have a gap between the stall and the door, ranging from half an inch to something you could easily push a cat through. This means the world can see you trembling one out with your dignity around your ankles.

I decided to make the best of a bad situation and grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped the seat as dry as possible. Then, with military precision, I started to cover the offending plastic horseshoe with enough streams of toilet paper to make a mummy think “steady on”. This went on for at least 2 to 3 minutes until I was satisfied I wouldn’t come in contact with any part of the seat.

I sat down, facing the ill conceived grand canyon gap and looked out for any peeping toms or cats. Once I was satisfied that no-one gave a shit, I decided that maybe it was time I did. My stomach was still feeling uncomfortable and there was no telling when the next pit stop would be.

The time had come for my big performance.

Here we go.

-fart-

Dammit.

False alarm.

Oh well, I’ll have a piss instead…but I don’t want to touch the underside of this seat so I’ll just leave it down.

Oops.