While making my usual fuel stop at the Safeway in Redding, a car pulled up in the next lane with three teenagers in it: two girls and a boy. From the looks of them, it must be Prom Night in Redding. The driver was a girl in a lovely sequined prom dress and high-high heels. To my surprise, she was the one who got out and fueled the car. I know that if I had been the boy in the tux in the passenger seat, I would have certainly offered to get out and do the work. Tuxedo shoes may not be the most comfortable in the world, but they're certainly easier to maneuver in than super-high heels. (I know; I've worn both kinds.) Am I being sexist by suggesting that the person who was most easily able to navigate get out and do the work?
(Yes, there may well be issues I don't know about. The girl may have turned down the help. The boy might not actually be mobile. Etc. I didn't ask; I was fueling my own vehicle and otherwise staying to myself.)
Actually, even more remarkable to me than the girl being able to bounce around dealing with fueling her car was that she was able to drive at all. The couple of times I was in heels that high, driving was a real challenge, and in fact at one point I just gave up and took off the right shoe rather than risk getting the heels tangled up in the pedals.