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    A Lot Of Hot Air Over Very Little Gas

    | OH, USA | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Money, Transportation

    (When customers pre-pay for gas with a credit card, but their vehicle won’t take as much as they’ve put on it, the system automatically refunds the remaining portion onto the card that was used. This conversation takes place near the end of a 10-hour shift.)

    Customer: *in a not-so-nice tone* “I sent a kid in here earlier to get gas and he only pumped $17, but I was charged for $25. Why was I over-charged?”

    Me: *looks at his receipt* “Oh, well, it looks like they pre-paid for gas and it was charged to a credit card. The remaining portion would have been automatically refunded to your card.”

    Customer: “I need a receipt showing that it refunded.”

    Me: “I am so sorry, sir, but I can only print receipts for the past 10 transactions, and it looks like the kid you sent in got gas well over two hours ago. There isn’t a way for me to pull it up.”

    Customer: “Well how the h*** am I supposed to know that it refunded? How do I know you didn’t steal my money?”

    Me: “As soon as the nozzle on the pump is hung back up, it refunds automatically. You could actually call your credit company right now, and it would show that the balance is there.”

    Customer: “No! I will not call them! I want you to show me proof right now that you didn’t steal my money!”

    Me: “As I just said, there is nothing I can do. It’s been several hours since this transaction took place, so I can’t look it up. I assure you, if you would just call…”

    Customer: “I need you to write down that I only pumped $17 worth of gas and sign it so I can dispute it when it charges me $25 on my bill!”

    Me: “Sir, I have no idea how much gas you pumped, so I will not sign anything saying you only pumped $17. Furthermore, you’ve been yelling at me for over three minutes during a very busy time and I’m the only person here to ring out the 12 people behind you. I’ve told you that all you have to do is call the number on the back of the card to verify that you were only charged for what you pumped, and yet you’re still unsatisfied. The only other thing I can offer is that you call our customer service center and file a complaint. The number, and our store number are posted right beside you, and my name is on your receipt from earlier.”

    Customer: *shoves a pen and his receipt in my face* “I’m not leaving until you write a statement about my gas and sign it!”

    Me: “If you don’t leave, I will call the police to escort you from the premise.”

    (Just then, one of our regulars, who is a police officer and in uniform, walks in. I sigh in relief, but the customer doesn’t notice.)

    Customer: “You WILL write down that I only pumped $17. I’m not going anywhere!”

    Me: “Hey, [Officer], could you do me a favor?”

    Officer: “That depends… What is it?”

    (The customer looks over at the officer, back at me, and scrambles out the door.)

    Me: “Never mind; he left on his own.”

    Bill Of Rights

    | NY, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Money

    (The gas station I work at frequently runs out of small bills on the weekends so we have a difficult time making change. Normally, we put large, colorful signs on the front counters asking for smaller bills, and most people will oblige, but we still get people who try to ask for change after using the ATM.)

    Customer: “Could I get change for this twenty?”

    Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t have any small bills to spare.” *points at neon pink sign*

    Customer: “That’s stupid. Just give me some change.”

    Me: “I can’t. I won’t be able to make change for people who actually buy something.”

    Customer: “Fine, whatever!”

    (He then proceeds to wander the store, finally picking out the cheapest item we have, a 50-cent package of crackers, and walks back up to the counter.)

    Customer: “Yeah, I’d like these.” *hands me a twenty*

    Me: “Sir, I really don’t have change for this.”

    Customer: “Just sell me this so I can get some f****** change!”

    (I ended up giving it to him just to get him out of the store.)

    Needs Oil On This Troubled Water

    | QLD, Australia | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Transportation

    (I watch a fancy BMW pull up to the entrance to the fuel station. An old rich-looking man gets out and walks into the store.)

    Me: “Hey, how’s it going?”

    Customer: “Yeah, good.”

    Me: “What can I help you with today?”

    Customer: “I need to get some oil for my car.”

    Me: “Yup, all of our oils are on the rack beside you.”

    Customer: “Can you tell me what oil I need for my car?”

    Me: “I don’t know sir, and I’m not allowed to recommend anything. Company policy.”

    Customer: “You’re a fuel station and you can’t recommend me the correct oil I need for my car?”

    Me: “That is correct, sir.”

    Customer: “Well, I think that is completely stupid.”

    (The customer grabs a random bottle of oil from rack and pays for it.)

    Customer: “I’ll use this one, and if it’s wrong I’ll come back and sue you.”

    Me: “And THAT is why we can’t recommend one for you, sir!”

    Not Cosplaying Around Any More

    | CO, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Theme Of The Month

    (I manage to get a job with one of my friends in a gas station on the north end of town, which is where a lot of the weirdest people are. My friend is entirely too trusting, and becomes friends with one of the homeless guys, an older veteran who rarely ever bathes. The guy hangs out with her when she has to work the evening shift by herself. I somehow get talked out of my phone number as well. One day I get a random text. It is a picture of a girl taking a selfie in the bathroom, having just applied makeup and a wig, with a weird border obviously added by a program.)

    Text: “Guess who this is?”

    (I’m confused, because I don’t know who would send me a text like that, so I check the sender. It’s the veteran, and after staring at the picture I realize it’s of my friend cosplaying.)

    Me: “Hey… [Friend]?”

    Friend: “Yeah?”

    Me: “Did you post any cosplaying pics on Facebook recently?”

    Friend: “Oh, yeah. I was working on applying the right amount of makeup to look like [Character] and posted it to get opinions. Why?”

    (I show her the message, and she goes slightly pale)

    Friend: “Who did this?!”

    Me: “[Veteran]. I take it he didn’t ask permission before probably sending this to every contact in his phone?”

    Friend: *even paler* “No.”

    Me: “And I imagine the picture didn’t have this weird border beforehand?”

    Friend: *barely audible* “No.”

    (Fast forward a couple hours, and the veteran drops by.)

    Veteran: “Hey, [Friend]! How you doing?”

    Friend: “Did you send my cosplay picture to all your friends?”

    Veteran: *looking proud of himself* “Yes! I thought it was really pretty!”

    Friend: “All of them?!”

    Veteran: *catching on to her tone* “Uh… yes?”

    (Long story short, he got lectured in the middle of the gas station while other customers looked on. Over the next few days all of his buddies showed up looking for my friend, several of them intoxicated and making not so nice comments about her, before they were kicked out!)

    Diolch yn fawr Very Much, Part Dau

    | Deiniolen, Wales, UK | At The Checkout, Language & Words

    (I am on about my third shift as a new employee at a petrol station. I am currently the only day-staff member who speaks Welsh, and many customers, it seems, have never met the store’s Welsh-speaking night staff. As I live and work in a very Welsh-speaking area, my ability to use the language seems to be something of a novelty for the regular customers).

    Customer: *in Welsh* “So nice to have a true Welsh-speaking Welshwoman on the staff here, even if you’re not local.”

    Me: *in Welsh* “Well, thank you for the compliment. There are actually two ‘true Welsh-speaking Welsh’ staff members, but I’m afraid I’m not one of them!”

    Customer: *in Welsh* “Sure you are. I mean it’s obvious you’ve come up from, like, [Mid Wales Town] or somewhere to study at [Nearby University], as your manner of speaking is a bit more polite than us lot. We do like to yell at each other, you know.”

    Me: *in Welsh* “Well, you’re right about me studying at [Nearby University], but I’m actually from [Southern England town]. I’m polite because I am working in a shop and I’ve been trained to always treat customers with care and respect.”

    Customer: *in English* “No f****** way! You can’t be English. Your Welsh is too good!”

    Me: *in Welsh* “I assure you, I am English. I’ve had 3.5 years of Welsh lessons, and plenty of friends who’ve encouraged me to practice the language so that I’m comfortable using it in a work situation. I am flattered that you felt my Welsh was good enough to count me amongst born-and-bred Welsh speakers, though.”

    Customer: *in English* “So you could understand everything I was saying to you just now?”

    Me: *in Welsh* “Well, weren’t you of the impression I was from [Mid-Wales Town]? We sustained a conversation in Welsh.”

    Customer: *in English* “I just can’t get my head around being able to talk in Welsh to an English person. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to talk to you in English. I can’t deal with talking to you in Welsh. It’s too much.”

    Me: *in Welsh* “Whatever makes you more comfortable. Would you prefer it if I also switched to English?”

    Customer: *in English* “Oh God, no! It’s about time you lot learned our bloody language!”

    Related:
    Diolch yn fawr Very Much

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