Unfiltered Story #219073

(It’s 4th of July weekend, so we have a lot of people from out of town. I work overnights at a gas station, and its been busier later than normal. It should be stated I also have a couple of mental disorders. Most of the out of town people have been fairly nice. Except for a few.)
Customer: *walks up to the register*
Me: *with a smile* Hi th–
Customer: *interrupting me* Where’s the nearest [Hotel Chain]? I’m not from here and I need to get to my hotel.
(I’ve only lived in this area for a little over a year, and thus don’t know the area super well yet, especially not specific places. My mental disorders don’t help.)
Me: *still smiling* Oh, most of the hotels are located over there. *gestures north and across the street*
Customer: I need directions.
Me: Oh, well, uh. Well if you get back onto the street…
(I try my best to give directions to where most of the hotels in town are, trying to be quick and growing increasingly aware that a line is growing behind the man, who is getting even more irritated.)
Me: I’m sorry, I’m not that good at giving directions.
Customer: Yeah, I can see that.
Me: *stops smiling* Well, then. In that case, you’ll want to cross the street, head over towards [Popular Restaurant], and take a right.
Customer: About time. *storms out without even thanking me*
Regular: *walks up to the counter* Wow, what a jack*ss. I would’ve told him to f**k off.
Me: I gave him the wrong directions. That’s where all the apartments are.
(And that’s why you should be nicer to gas station attendants.)