The Culture Shock Continues

Perhaps the two hardest things to get used to are the two things that were unique to Oregon: gas and sales tax.

Nine years ago, I scoffed at Oregonians who didn't know how to pump their own gas. I chafed at having my freedom to pump gas taken from me. Then I got my own car, and I rather enjoyed being able to read while having my gas pumped for me.

Little did I know, I was forgetting how to perform such a task myself. I guess pumping my own gas once or twice a year in Washington didn't keep my skills up to date. Last month, on our road trip to Oklahoma, I got out to pump my gas, I drove away, and realized 300 miles later at my next fill-up that I'd left the gas cap behind.

Nine years ago, I was a whiz at calculating sales tax in my head. I worked retail, and I could usually guess - to the penny - how much something was going to cost before I rang it up.

Then I lived in a wonderful world in which the price on the tag/menu was the price one would actually pay. Even in other countries, the tax was included in the printed price. Now, I live in a state where food and clothes have no sales tax, but everything else does.

I ordered a drink for $4.35 at Starbucks today, and the cashier said, "That comes to $4.65." I was like, "The sign says $4.35." "Yes," she patiently explained as though she runs across it every day. "It's $4.35 plus some tax."

Sigh. One day, I'll have it figured out.