Mother Mellows Best

(My coworker and I are the only ones on duty at a gas station. We work at a full-service gas station, and as it’s July, we’re very busy. I’m outside filling vehicles, while my coworker is inside ringing customers up. I’m kind of timid, while my coworker is kind of hot-headed, and we’re both female. A man in his late forties pulls up in his big pickup truck.)

Me: “Sir? Can I get you to pull ahead a bit and park a little closer to the pump? There are some customers who can’t reach the pump behind you, and you’re too close to the store. They can’t go around you.”

(The customer doesn’t even look at me and stalks off towards the store.)

Male Customer: “Fill it. Make d*** sure that you wash the windshield, too!”

(I begin to do my job. A line is forming behind the truck, and customers are asking me what’s the hold up. I have to explain to them about the customer, and I apologize profusely. Finally, the truck is filled, and I go in to tell my coworker the price.)

Me: “That’ll be [price].”

(The man has been standing in line for some time, refusing to let others in front of him while he waits for the price. The store is packed and hot, and the other customers look uncomfortable.)

Male Customer: “I’d like to pay with my [chain] points card, but I don’t know how many points are on it. Check it.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, but we have no way of telling you how many points are on your card. The best I can do for you is to run the card and if it comes up short, charge you that extra.”

Male Customer: “What?! I make sure I stop at every [Chain] station that I can to collect these d*** points! I will not pay for the gas with my own money! Just run the card through one of your machines and tell me how many d*** points I have!”

Coworker: “Sir, like I told you before, we don’t have any machines that can check your points. If you want to use your card, you can, but if it comes up short I’ll have to charge you the extra.”

(This goes on for a little while, and my coworker begins to get irate, though she keeps her cool. More customers come in and I try and help others at the second till, but then the man starts yelling at me. I ignore him and try to swipe a customer’s credit card, but the man grabs the card reader from my hand and jams his points card in. The look of shock and hurt on my face must have been apparent, because another customer, a woman maybe a bit older than the man, steps in.)

Female Customer: *to the male customer* “WHAT THE F*** DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? You’ve got a room full of people AND a bunch of cars outside waiting for you to get your a** out of the way and get out of here! You’ve been rude to these girls who have been nothing but polite to you, and now you’re starting to piss me off! And I’m sure I’m not the only one!”

(The other customers nod and murmur their agreement.)

Male Customer: “B****, I didn’t ask for your thoughts. Get back to your kitchen and your whining grandchildren!”

Female Customer: “Is that how you would speak to your mother? Really, didn’t your mother teach you better?”

(Suddenly, the troublesome customer doesn’t seem to be so angry. He actually looks a little bit scared at the mention of his mother. He begins stuttering and cussing her out, but the fire in him is gone. The lady fixes him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen, and then the customer flings two fifties at my coworker and begins elbowing his way through the sea of people and out of the store. The customers begin applauding and insist the heroine go to the front of the line. She’s only getting two Vitamin Waters and a bag of chips, and since the troublesome customer has given us much more than he needed, my coworker and I pay for her with the change.)