(I work at a convenience store which has a carwash. We offer unlimited carwashes at a set price for the month where you can go to any of our chain stores and go through the wash as many times as you want. There’s a tag that is sensed at each carwash. A woman in her 20s comes to my register.)

Customer: ”I have a tag that is in a bad place on my car, and at other stores, as long as I show them, they give me a carwash.”

Me: “You have a tag that’s in a bad place? How so?”

Customer: “It’s in a hard-to-read place. As long as I show the other stores that I have a tag, they just give me a carwash.”

Me: “They give you a free car wash?”

Customer: “Yeah, I think it’s part of the ‘free carwash for a year’ deal.”

Me: *calls my shift leader* “Have you heard of ‘free carwash for a year’ deal?”

Shift Leader: “No.”

Customer: “I can show you the tag on my car and that it’s in a bad place.”

(I oblige, though I’m not willing to give a free carwash simply because her tag is in a bad place, which is her fault, not ours, and I really doubt any store is giving ‘free carwashes for a year,’ but if they are, the customer is welcome to keep getting her free washes there.)

Customer: “See, it’s in a bad place. Like I said, the other store always gives me a carwash when I show them that this is in a bad place that the sensor can’t read.”

(Sure enough, the tag is in a hard-to-sense area, but again, that’s not my problem. It’s not even where were trained to place them, so I’m not sympathetic.)

Me: “I see that, but just because it’s in a bad place it doesn’t require me to give you a free code. That other store may give you free carwashes as part of a ‘free carwash for a year’ deal, but I can’t give you a free one. You’ll have to pay for it.”

Customer: *defeated, buys our cheapest carwash*

(The girl was really sweet through her attempted scam. I later realized that she was indeed trying to scam us. We get a lot of issues with customers trying to get their money back or free carwashes, but none that have claimed that their poorly-placed tag has actually gotten them free washes.)

(I walk down to the corner store to pick up a few things. While I am browsing, a young woman enters the store.)

Customer: *to cashier* “Do you have biscuits? Like, dough-in-a-can type biscuits?”

Cashier: “No, we don’t, sorry.”

(The woman pauses to look at the glass case at the front counter containing various smoking paraphernalia.) 

Customer: “You do have bongs, though… but I need biscuits!”

(She then exited the store.)

I took two weeks off to get married and returned to work 10/21. Within the first few days a young African woman came in. Since I don’t know her name, I shall refer to her as A.

When A saw me at register, she rolled her eyes and asked if I was going to card her. I responded by stating company policy that all customers are carded until 27 and asked her age. She called me a bitch and told me she was 25. A then left the store without purchasing anything.

On 10/23, A returned to the store and saw me mopping. She proceeded to kick over the wet floor cones and called me a bitch again. As I was checking her and her partner out, she berated me and insulted me. According to her, I was so polite it was rude and offensive and I should remember her as being legally able to smoke.

I attempted to explain that I didn’t remember seeing her ID and that if she wanted a manager I could get one. A left before the manager could come up.

On 10/25, she came into the store around 11:40pm. She and her partner bought a single soda and left the store without much incident. Only a few minutes later, her partner returned and told me there was no gas on pump 9. I printed out the receipt and told him that no gas was purchased.

He left and returned with A. She proceeded to tell me that she paid for the gas and refused to listen when I showed her the receipt. She called me all sorts of names and told me I had to put the gas on the pump. After a few minutes of this, I radioed for help and informed her that I was under no obligation to help her further as she was verbally assaulting me.

A then called me a cunt and told me that I would be better off dead. It was at this point that I left register and T, the MOD, arrived. I had to return to check customers out as Tim was now arguing with A and attempting to explain there was no record of her pumping gas.

I offered to give T a few dollars to pay for their gas as I know what it’s like to be broke. A must have over heard me whisper to him as she proceeded to tell me that she was going to shove my money up my ass and beat me to a pulp. I was again called a bitch, a cunt and other names as I walked away.

I left the sales floor while A yelled at T and finally bullied him into putting the 20$ onto pump 9. There was no record of her paying for gas ever found.

On 10/26, the general manager accused me of enjoying drama and intentionally making his life more difficult. I was already upset, despite it being hours after the incident, and his anger towards me resulted in my crying.

Customer: *holding out a dollar coin* “How much is this worth?”

Me: *confused* “Uh, one dollar.”

Customer: “Ugh!” *pays with the coin and other cash, and leaves*

Me: “D***! This is an actual silver dollar!” *quickly exchanges my own dollar bill for it*

Store Owner: “D*** it, I wanted to buy it out of the register! That’s worth like $20.”

Me: “Too late!”

(Convenience stores are not pawnshops; money is only worth more than face value to collectors, and most 18-year-olds aren’t going to be able to tell you what a rare coin is worth. Upon researching, it’s actually worth at least $150 based on its condition!)

(I’m the manager at a busy gas station with a convenience store. There has been a major power outage in our little town; power has been out for seven hours at this point and nothing is open. Still, people pull in hoping to gas up or buy some snacks, and I spend a good part of my day telling people we are closed as I can’t leave the building. A lady pulls in, gets out of her car, and starts walking to the door, so I open it to talk to her.)

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, power’s out and we’re closed.”

Customer: “I know, but can’t you just sell me one little bag of ice?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not today, anyway.”

Customer: “You can’t even sell me one single bag of ice?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. Sorry.”

Customer: *in an angry, sing-song tone* “Well, how am I supposed to keep my food cold if you won’t sell me any ice?!”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t even keep our own food cold. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Customer: “What the h*** am I supposed to do, then?!”

Me: “Well, you could cross the bridge in to [Town three minutes away in another province]. I know for a fact that they have power, and they sell ice, as well.”

Customer: “I don’t go to [Town] because I don’t like bridges! So there!”

Me: “Oh, okay, then. I’m sorry. Have a good night.”

(As she walked off, I looked over at our electric ice freezer that had been sitting out in the hot sun for seven hours and wondered how she thought we were keeping our ice frozen. They were basically bags of slush at that point.)