(A very attractive woman gets out of a Mercedes. She is wearing a mini skirt and halter top. Her outfit leaves nothing to the imagination.)

Attractive Customer: “I need 20 on 3.”

Me: “Okay.” *I ring her up and she pays*

Attractive Customer: “So is someone else working or do you pump the gas?”

Me: “This is a self-service station; we don’t pump the gas for you.”

Attractive Customer: “Well, there is no way I am pumping the gas myself.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t pump the gas for you.”

Attractive Customer: “This is no way to get a tip! I am the customer and I want you to pump the gas for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but if I leave the counter I could be fired. As I said this is a self service station; it means you have to do it yourself.”

Attractive Customer: “FINE!”

(She then walks out to her car and yells…)

Attractive Customer: “Is someone going to pump me or do I have to do it myself?!”

*every guy at the station goes running over to help her*

(A girl pulls up to a gas pump. I’m watching her through the window from behind the cash register as she removes the OUT OF ORDER BAG placed over the pump (clearly marked, bright yellow bag) and throws it in the trash next to her. She plays around with it for a while and then walks toward the door.)

Girl: “Your pumps aren’t working.”

Me: “Go back outside, pull the bag that you just threw away out of the trash and read it. That should solve the problem.”

Related:
One-Woman Wrecking Crew

(It’s about closing time, and I’m doing the final stock of the tobacco stuffs, while a police officer (there because of problems with stealing of in-store merchandise) writes out his nightly report. In walks a very short person, obviously under 19, whiter than Casper, and dressed like a pimp.)

Short Pimp: “Packa Players!”

Me: “ID?”

SP: “What?”

Me: “I need to see your ID, or you can’t have ‘em.”

SP: “You don’t need my ID! I’m 21!” *starts cussing*

Me: “Yes, but we have to ask if you look under 40, so hand it over.”

SP: “Well, you’re giving me the smokes anyways–and for free now because of the way you’re treating me.”

Me: “Uh-huh, and I’m Bill Gates.”

SP: “Fine! Here’s my ****ing ID!.” *hands over an obviously fake ID*

Me: “Okay, do you have a real ID?”

SP: “That is real, a**hole!”

Me: “Dude, no it isn’t. If you’re gonna use a fake ID, get someone who can at least spell Ontario.”

SP: “FINE! I’ll just shoot you, and take what I want!

(Short Pimp sticks his hand in his pocket, and pretends that there’s a gun in there.)

Me: “Right, because a cop totally isn’t standing right behind you with his very real gun at the back of your head.”

(At this point Officer Cool Guy had gotten up, and pulled his “very real gun” [read: just his night stick, but held like a gun] on Short Pimp, but SP didn’t know that.)

SP: “It’s because I’m black, isn’t it?”

Me: “Next time try [competing gas station], and don’t come back.”

(Once SP leaves Officer Cool Guy and I try very hard not to bust out laughing.)

Related:
How To Scam A Scammer, Part 4
How To Scam A Scammer, Part 3
How To Scam A Scammer, Part 2
Lesson 1, How To Scam A Scammer

(Customer comes in after filling his car.)

Me: “G’day sir, pump number 4?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “That’ll be $47.90.”

Customer: “I spilled a bit of gas out there.”

(There is an auto-shut off feature which the customer apparently ignored and kept pumping.)

Me: “Oh, don’t worry about that sir.”

Customer: “What are you going to do about it?”

Me: “I’ll just spread some cat litter on it and soak it right up.”

Customer: “No, I mean, what are you going to do for me? Gas is expensive and I can’t afford to be pouring it all over the ground!”

Me: “…then may I suggest not overfilling your gas tank?”

(I was a pump attendant (Oregon is a no-self-serve state) and a fairly attractive middle-aged woman in a mid 90’s Ford pickup pulled up for fuel. Now, that style of truck has two gas tanks, one in front, one in back. Here’s our conversation:)

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Her: “I just need ten bucks worth of diesel, please.”

Me: “Okay, which tank?”

Her: “Oh, I think I’ll take it in the rear tonight!”

(We both paused, she turned bright red, and it was all I could do not to bust out laughing!)

Woman: “I’ve been standing out there trying to pump gas for the last 10 minutes! Your @&$%*# gas pump is broken!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’ll go out with you and see what I can do.”

(I see a bright red “Out of Order” bag on the nozzle; she had shoved everything into her tank, bag and all.)

Me: “Yes, that pump is broken. You’ll need to pull up to another pump.”

Woman: “Oh, well you guys should really mark it better. I wasted a lot of time here!”

Me: “Um…yes, we usually put a traffic cone in front.”

Woman: “Oh yeah…I saw it, but I didn’t know what it was for, so I just drove over it.”

(The cone was wedged under her car.)

(We are a prepay station. A little old lady walks in.)

Lady: “So what, I can’t get gas now because so many idiots drive off? What kind of world do we live in that a Christian doesn’t get treated right?”

Me: “… I’m sorry, Ma’am, we lost over 75,000 gallons of gas last year due to drive offs.”

Lady: “This is just stupid. Why don’t you just turn the damn pump on? I’m filling up, I don’t know how much it’s going to take.”

Me: “Ma’am, you can either leave your keys, a credit card, or an ID, and I’ll be more than happy to turn the pump on.”

(The lady hands me a $20 bill.)

Me: “Alright, I’ll just prepay this 20, and it’ll shut off for you when it hits 20.”

Lady: “No no no. That’s my down-payment. Turn the pump on and I’ll come pay the rest.”

(I sigh and turn the pump on, I’m really not supposed to, but at least I’ll have some money to put towards it if she drives away. The lady goes out and pumps her gas, comes back in to pay.)

Lady: “One day, the Lord is going to come down and smite everybody who doesn’t respect the Christians who live by the rules.”

Man behind her: “I’m going to be a good Atheist and prepay my gas. $15 on pump 3, please and thank you.”

(Setting: Gas station, Saturday, 11 pm)

Customer: “Is Sunday’s paper out yet?”

Me: “No sir, it’s still Saturday…”

Customer: “Oh, what time do they normally come in?”

Me: “Around 4 am but sometimes as late as 5 am.”

Customer: “Oh okay, I guess I’ll wait.”

(Customer proceeds to wait in the store for 5 hours for the paper to be delivered…)

Source

*Customers runs in frantically*

Customer: “How much is y’all’s gas?”

Me: “It’s posted outside, $2.78 a gallon.”

Customer: “DAMN SAND NI**ERS ALWAYS HIKING UP GAS! I’M GOING DOWN THE STREET!”

*returns 10 minutes later*

Customer: “Let me get 10 on pump 3.”