These are the main culture shocks I experienced as a New Jersey girl going to college in Alabama.
As the wise Zac Brown Band once said, you know I like my chicken fried!
I never realized how truly blessed I was to experience New Jersey pizza and bagels until I left for college. Instead of ordering delicious food from Gigi’s, Attilio’s, or the numerous Italian restaurants I used to be surrounded by, the best option to fix a pizza craving is Domino’s. Or Papa Johns.
In New Jersey, just the thought of ordering from either of those pizza chain restaurants is insulting.
While the area lacks quality Italian restaurants, it makes up for it with barbecue, shrimp and grits, biscuits and gravy, and banana pudding. These Southern staples have become my new favorite and something I did not mind getting used to. The Southern cooking secret is a whole bunch of love (and butter).
Have you seen a Jersey girl pump gas? There’s a reason you probably haven’t…
The statement “Jersey girls don’t pump gas” exists for a reason- it’s illegal in New Jersey to pump your own gas- and I am thankful for that.
One of my favorite aspects about living in New Jersey has been this luxury, and I used to take pride in being able to say “I have never pumped gas by myself.” At school, I would purposefully drive my friends' around just to end up at the gas station, in hopes they would do it for me. It worked in a few instances, but the inevitable time arrived when I was forced to swallow that pride, and learned how to pump gas for myself.
Unfortunately, I continue to get hit with the following series of questions: Wait, so people pump your gas for you? When you pull into the gas station someone is standing there to help you? Why can’t you do it yourself? What happens if you get out of the car and do it?