I went to the plumbing store to show them the old spout from Yancey's tub. The diverter has apparently been broken for a decade, so I took the whole contraption off and stuck it in front of the helpful guys at the plumbing store.
"What is this and may I please have a new one?"
Fourteen dollars and a few chuckles later, I found myself out by the cheap gas stations. It's all relative, of course, as $2.93 a gallon doesn't seem the least bit cheap to me, but Jersey has some of the cheapest gas in the country, and the stations between 440 and the highways over Newark Bay are some of the cheapest in JC.
I stopped at the station behind the Jiffy Lube, next to the truck stop. An Indian shopkeeper approached my car. I handed him my keys and asked if I should follow him back to the booth to pay. (NJ has full-serve only and these were not pay at the pump.)
"No, please, stay in your car with your doors locked. Many strange things happen here."
I looked around. Urban decay, deserted cars, trucks, and stacks of palettes, and in the distance, the tip of the Pulaski Skyway. It did look kind of dangerous. I just don't think about it that way since I've been driving through it for 19 years.
"That's why I don't wear a watch. It's dangerous," he explained further.
Point taken. I stayed in the car and locked the doors.