(Back in 1996, working an afternoon at the popular local convenience store with gas pumps. Gas is about $1.25 a gallon. We have multiple cars at the pumps and a line of customers waiting inside at the register to pay. A little old lady comes up…)

Old Lady: “What do I owe on pump four?”

Me: *checking the pump total* “$13.96.”

Old Lady: “That doesn’t sound right. Please make sure you’re looking at the right pump. Number four.”

Me: *checking again* “Huh, that’s weird. It’s $14.67, now.”

(My manager is organizing the shelves nearby and gives me a weird look.)

Old Lady: “That can’t be right; my tank has a hole in it and can only hold about $8 dollars of gas.”

(My manager, a 4’11” woman, LEAPS over the service counter, palming the emergency pump shutoff, races to the aisle with cat food, and shoots out the front door with a bag of kitty litter, shouting “Call the fire department!” at me and “GET AWAY FROM THE PUMPS!” to everyone outside.)

Old Lady: “So, will $8 be enough?”

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(I take a second job working the overnight shift at a 24-hour gas station and convenience store. It is my first time ever working third shift. Around three am, while preparing coffee and pastries for the morning rush, my mind starts to wander.)

Me: *thinking to myself* “I wonder what some of these customers stories are. Like, what’s going on in your life that you wander into a gas station at three am on a Tuesday morning? It would sure be interesting to get to know some of these people.”

(Then, just as I turn around and face the front of the store, a rusted out, windowless van pulls up to the gas pumps. What appears to be a little old lady climbs out and approaches the store. As this person gets closer, it becomes clear that this is no lady. This is a man, with full beard (in other words, not even trying to fool anyone) in a thrift store dress, sensible ladies shoes, white gloves, and your grandma’s purse draped over his arm.)

Me: “May I help you?”

Customer: *in the sweetest little old lady voice* “Just a coffee, regular, please.”

(He was very polite. I didn’t get the sense that this was some sort of prank or anything. Just seemed like that’s what he’s into. I’m not bigoted in any way and support all kinds of lifestyles, but remembering what I was thinking just before he walked in, I now thought “I REALLY want to know this dude’s story!”)

(My husband and I often visit a nearby convenience store that opened recently. Aside from being a gas station primarily, it also has a deli/food area with touch screens for ordering fresh-made food. We’re perusing the options when we see something new…)

Me: “Hey, pretzels! And pretzel bites!” *I tap on it and it gives more options* “This says ‘salt,’ and this one says ‘no salt.’”

Husband: “Can you tap them both?” *does so* “You can! It’s a salt/no salt pretzel.”

Me: *laughing* “I wonder what they’d do for that?”

Husband: “So, do you want a salt/no salt pretzel?”

(Turned out that if you don’t select either option, it came with no salt, so adding the “no salt” option to the screen was a little redundant. Now, every time we order a pretzel there, we make a joke about the salt/no salt options.)

(I’m a cashier in a small convenience store. I listen primarily to country music at work because it comes in clearly and there are less objectionable lyrics and themes in it. Currently, Toby Keith’s song ‘As Good As I Once Was’ is playing. The customer in the store is a woman of about fifty years of age.)

Customer: *responding to the chorus* “Yeah, that’s what they all say. ‘Oh, honey, you should have seen me twenty years ago! Or even ten! I was awesome then!’ Such a pack of liars!” *she fixes me with a stern look* “Don’t believe them. They’re never as good as they think they were.”

(The largest chain of convenience stores in our state has been switching over to a “kitchen” format, which I hate. They are trying to focus on food. To order the food, drinks, or frozen treats, one must punch in the order on a screen even though a person is standing right there on the other side of the counter. My first encounter with this system was over a year ago. I thought it was stupid and have not tried it again since. But the kids have asked me to pick up ice cream on the way home and theirs is only 79 cents a cone. Despite a person standing basically in front of me, I have to use the screen. I am not wearing my reading glasses.)

Option #1: “Food, coffee, frozen treat.” *frozen treat selected*

Option #2: “Ice cream, shake, sundae.” *ice cream selected*

Option #3: “Cone, cup.” *cup selected*

Option #4: “Select another, number, cancel.” *select another*

(Select another seemed a perfectly viable option so I pressed it without reading the other options. In all, I ordered three cones and a cup. Just as I finished the last order, the fellow behind the counter speaks.)

Employee: “Whoa! What are you trying to do?!”

Me: “I’m ordering three cones and a cup of ice cream.”

Employee: “Wait a minute! There’s a way easier way to do that! Look at this.”

(He comes around the counter, cancels my order and then:)

Option #1: “Food, coffee, frozen treat.” *frozen treat selected*

Option #2: “Ice cream, shake, sundae.” *ice cream selected*

Option #3: “Cone, cup.” *cup selected*

Option #4: “Select another, number, cancel.” *select number*

Option #5: “A numbers key pad screen pops up. He hits four then cancels then hits three, then hits select another. And proceeds to order the cup.”

Me: “So you just cancelled my order to show me how to do it faster when it basically took you the same amount of time thus doubling my wait?”

Employee: *blank stare*

(I walked out and stopped at a fast food place where I could talk to a person who not only took the order but filled it and handed me the ice creams in a cool little carrier. Sometimes technology is not the answer.)