Customer #1: *not even looking at me* “Turn on pump number four.”

(The customer starts to walk out but I call after her.)

Me: *smiling politely* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that. You have to prepay for gas or leave a deposit.”

Customer #1: *holding out debit card* “I’d like to prepay for $40 in gas, then.”

Me: *still smiling* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our system is a bit outdated so I can’t prepay fuel with a debit or credit card. However, if you’d like, you can pay with cash or I can hold your card and—”

Customer #1: *snottily* “I’m not giving you my card! You’ll steal my information! Just turn the damned pump on! Jesus, you’re f****** stupid! You’re the only person here who won’t turn on the god-d*** pump for me!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, if I’m the only person who won’t turn the pump on for you, then I’m the only cashier here who is doing her job properly. And you can just leave. Now. You have your nasty attitude to thank for that.”

(She stares at me, seemingly at a loss for words, but she doesn’t leave so I expect her to make a scene as soon as she can speak again. But before she can open her mouth, another customer, who heard the whole exchange, walks up to the counter and speaks to the woman.)

Customer #2: “I know it’s not any of my business but do you ever go to nice, sit-down restaurants?”

Customer #1: *scoffs* “Why, of course I do!”

Customer #2: “So what’s the difference in a waiter or waitress taking your card and walking off with it and you leaving it here with this young lady? Are you trying to say that just because she works at a convenience store that she’s a thief? Or that maybe restaurants have higher standards for employee? Trust me, lady, if that’s your logic, it’s very, very flawed.”

(The woman opens and closes her mouth several times but obviously can’t come up with a good argument because she turns around and storms out of the store.)

Customer #2: *smiles* “That felt really good.”

This story is part of our Flawed Customer Logic roundup!

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(A customer brings a pack of gum to the counter. The MSRP, 69 cents, is printed on it.)

Me: “Okay, that’ll be 75 cents.”

Customer: *practically yelling* “No, it says 69 cents right here!”

Me: “Yes, and sales tax makes it 75.”

Customer: “Tax is 8 cents to a dollar, and this is less than a dollar, so there isn’t supposed to be any tax on it!”

Me: “That’s… that’s not how sales tax works…”

(He left without buying the gum.)

(I’ve just finished eating lunch and take my ticket to the woman at the counter, still holding my fountain drink which I have not finished.)

Cashier: “One burger combo. Is that it?”

Me: “Yep.”

(I notice that she rings me up for my drink as well as my combo meal.)

Me: “Oh, I didn’t get a refill or anything, so its part of the combo.”

Cashier: “Drinks aren’t included in the combo.”

Me: “Yes, they are. A combo is a burger, fries or tater tots, and a 24 oz drink.”

(I point to the sign that is literally right behind her that lists what’s in the combo meal.)

Me: “See?”

(She stares at me for a moment, looking annoyed.)

Cashier: “Fine.”

(Without even looking at the sign she voids the order and just rings me up for my combo.)

(I have come in on my day off to drop off my boyfriend’s dinner. He works at the same store.)

Me: “Hey, could you call Scott up?”

Cashier: “What?”

Me: “Can you call Scott?”

Cashier: “What?”

Me: “Call Scott.”

Cashier: “What?”

Me: “Call Scott.”

Cashier: “What?”

Me: “Call the manager!”

Cashier: “Oh!” *picks up paging system* “Scott to the front please.”

Me: *sigh*

(I have two piercings in each ear and am wearing some very geeky earrings. Customers keep commenting on one pair, Nintendo controllers, but are confused as to what the other pair is. Until a young girl, who is maybe six, comes in with her mom.)

Little Girl: *wide eyed* “Is that a Tardis!?”

Me: *smiling* “Yes, it is! No one has figured it out all day.”

Little Girl: *excitedly* “Does that mean you’re the Doctor?!” *to her mom* “Is the Doctor a girl now?!”

Mom: *sternly* “No, the Doctor isn’t a girl.”

Little Girl: *sadly* “Oh…”

Mom: *brightly* “But that just means she’s his companion!”

Little Girl: “OH!” *grins* “Yeah! The Doctor does like gingers, doesn’t he?”

Me: *putting a finger to my lips* “Shh! Don’t tell anyone my secret!”

Little Girl: “Okay!”

(After her mom pays for their things, the little girl turns and waves before they leave.)

Little Girl: “By Miss the Doctor’s Companion! Beware the Daleks!”

(Best customers ever!)