I finally got a job as a pump jockey at a gas station in Lompoc.

The pump jockey was embarrassed, though I assured him I understood.

The pump jockey pushed his cap back on his head with one greasy thumb and walked around the car admiringly.

When he came out, the pump jockey was standing at a respectful distance from the Talisman, twisting his rag nervously in both hands.

He went to the pay phone on the wall while the pump jockey tried to fill the Buick's bottomless pit.

Soon we were standing there, two strangers, as the pump jockey filled the metal gas can.

Being a pump jockey isn't my thing.

He was a little surprised to see four teenage girls working as pump jockeys.

I saw that pump jockey; he was mad.

Mechanics and controllers also served as pump jockeys and janitors.