I’m at the pump, just starting to fill up. A guy carrying a green petrol can comes up to me.

Man: “Hey, could you put a couple of quid in here? It won’t let me put in less than five and I don’t need that much.”

Me: “Err, that’s petrol, right? I’m filling up with diesel.”

Man: “Oh, come on, man. I only want a couple of quids’ worth.”

Me: “Again, I’m not filling up with petrol. I’m using diesel. This isn’t what you want?”

Man: “Mate, I’ve broken down. I only need enough to get me home.”

Me: “Are you drunk? Do you want petrol or diesel?”

Man: “I don’t care, any.”

Massive alarm bells started ringing. His story made no sense. I made up a lie about going to pay for my fuel before getting his. Luckily, the staff were half decent and eventually called the police. The guy started to get real nervous and ran off just before they got there, but they caught him anyway.

It turned out that the guy was drunk, had no licence, and had stolen his friend’s car, which ran out of petrol almost immediately. I guess this wasn’t the first time as he ended up with jail time.

I worked overnight as a gas station cashier by myself. Since the day shifts would often leave me without change left in the safe that I had access to, I’d sometimes round amounts that involved pennies to keep my drawer balanced. Most people didn’t care.

Then, I encountered this woman. I rounded her change up by one penny to avoid giving her four I didn’t have.

Me: “Here’s your change. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “This is wrong! You gave me the wrong change!”

I tried to explain to her why I’d rounded up, but she wouldn’t listen. She returned during the morning shift to complain to my manager, too.

I work in the deli section of a chain of gas stores. We make anything from hotdogs and sandwiches to pizza and Stromboli. I’m a few weeks into doing deli work, so I am still kind of slow trying to learn everything and often unsure of my abilities.

While I’m working alone on a particularly slow Sunday afternoon, a guy in his late twenties comes to me for something on the go.

Me: “Hello, welcome to [Store]. My name’s [My Name]. What can I get for you?”

The guy looks at our menu for a few moments.

Customer: “I’d like a large ham sub.”

Me: “I’m sorry. We only have one size.”

Customer: “Okay, the largest you have.”

I assume he just said that out of habit.

Me: “Okay, what kind of bread?”

Customer: “White.”

Me: “Okay, sure. Lettuce? Tomato? Mayo?”

Customer: “American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and pickles.”

Me: “Sure thing!” 

I start opening the containers for vegetables and cheese he wants and begin slicing the bread in half as he just stands there, seemingly looking at the menu or at me prepping stuff, and not saying anything. 

In general, people want either mustard or mayo on their sandwich/sub and sometimes get rather upset if I mess up. Before assembling the sub, I ask again about the condiment. 

Me: “So, did you want mayo or mustard?”

Customer: *Still with his mind elsewhere* “Yes!”

Me: *Thinking he misunderstood the question* “Sorry, did you want mayo or mustard on your sub?”

Customer: *Answering without any hint of confusion* “Yes!”

Before I can find a better phrasing to confirm that it is one or the other, he walks off and disappears out of sight and shouting distance and leaves me there trying to think on what exactly he wants.

Afraid of screwing it up and/or getting yelled at for not knowing what he really wants, I quickly ask another coworker walking around nearby and stocking stuff on shelves for help.

Coworker: “Don’t worry about it. Just give him both.”

Me: “You sure?”

Coworker: “Yes. He either wants both or is too stupid to stick around and give you a straight answer!”

Taking her advice, I assembled the sub with everything — half mayo, half mustard — wrapped it up, and rang out his order.

The customer came back maybe ten minutes later and grabbed his food with little more than a “Thanks!” before walking out the door.

Apparently, he had been acting in a similarly “out of sorts” manner while at the front register. He didn’t appear to be intoxicated or on drugs and may have just had an off day.

Looking back, I should’ve been a little more assertive and tried harder for a straight answer, but he never came back to complain, so maybe he did want both. It did give us something to laugh about for a while after that, though.

I was working the closing shift at a full-serve gas station and it was 9:00 pm. I was just about to lock the door and call it a night when a lady came running up and knocked frantically. I was pretty tired by this time of the night and had already signed out of my shift and turned off the debit machine and the computer, but I decided to hear her out.

She said she cleaned the floors at the local grocery store and the polishing machine was out of propane. We also fill propane tanks; we’re the only ones that do this in the area. She was obviously in need, and this was for her job, so, of course, I turned everything back on and filled it for her. She thanked me over and over again, and I kept telling her it was no problem at all!

I ended up only about ten minutes late for close and messaged my boss to tell him what had happened so he wouldn’t be confused about the two closing receipts — I had to reactivate the debit machine. He was super surprised and happy that I did that for her, and he gave me a little bonus for it.

I was surprised by his reaction at first, but I guess there are some people out there who would turn her away, but it was really no trouble for me. I was glad I could help her and super happy about the praise from my boss.

I work at a gas station. At around 7:00 pm, a lady walks in and goes into the bathroom. About a minute later, a kid who’s around nine or ten years old also goes to the bathroom. A few minutes later, the lady comes out of the bathroom and walks out of the store, gets in her car, and drives away. A few minutes after that, the kid walks out of the bathroom, goes outside, and comes back in.

Kid: “I think my mom left without me.”

Me: “Do you know your mom’s phone number?”

The child says yes and tells me. I phone the number and it goes straight to voicemail. I’m not surprised; I live in a small village with bad service. I leave a message.

Me: “This is [My Name] and I’m calling from [Business, Gas Station]. I’m just letting you know your son is here and he is safe. When you get this message, please call us back at this number. We will be here until 9:00 pm.”

An hour later, the lady phones back.

Lady: “Hi! I’m an hour away! I’m coming right away!”

The kid was very well-behaved while waiting for his mom, sitting at one of the tables we have in the store. And around an hour later, the lady came into the store and got her son. She offered to give us money for our troubles, but I said no.