(It is Halloween. Two girls come in dressed in costume with some fake blood on them for effect. As they are leaving, a mother and 3-year-old child come in the door.)
3-year-old: (seeing first girl leave) Mommy, she has blood on her! (sees second girl) And so does she!
Mom: It’s not blood, it’s a costume for Halloween.
3-year-old: That’s not Halloween, that’s blood!
Mom: It’s pretend blood. They’re dressed up for trick-or-treat.
3-year-old: It’s not pretend. It’s blood.
We’ve stopped at a gas station for drinks and snacks. My husband is purchasing an energy drink while I’ve got water and gummy bears.
Me: “That stuff is going to kill you.”
Husband: “Energy drinks are good for you.”
Me: “They’re half poison.”
Husband: “Because gummy bears are healthy?”
Me: “These are completely natural. Made from 100% pure gummy bear.”
Clerk: “We catch them fresh in the wild every week.”
Husband: “I really don’t know what to say to that.”
My mom works at a gas station in France that is usually open from 7:00 am to 8:00 pm every day. Her boss has decided to change the opening times following the demand decrease due to the lockdown procedures, so the gas station is open only from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm, which has been advertised on Facebook, on the company’s website, on the door of the gas station, etc.
Safety and hygiene measures are in place, including two metres distance between people and no passengers allowed in cars except for kids.
A guy comes to the gas station demanding reimbursement for the tickets he and his wife got while driving around town one morning, because it’s all the gas station’s fault. He and his wife decided to drive together to the gas station at 8:00 am, when the gas station was usually open, had to turn back after seeing the locked door and lights out, and got spotted by the police who ticketed them for being two in the same car, which is illegal at the time.
That guy’s thinking and claim is that if the gas station had been open, they wouldn’t have gotten the tickets.
(I walk into a small run-down gas station with my family. We get everything we need for the road and are waiting to check out. There is no one in sight to serve us. After a few minutes of silence I point out the “fresh hot” deli display that has been turned off for the day.)
Me: Wow, what a wide selection of food, a single chicken strip.
The employee: (Who walked up behind me as my back was turned) But it is a quality chicken strip.
I am an African Canadian working at a local full-service gas station chain. We only have a small office big enough for one employee and a couple of soft drink coolers, all located on the gas pump island. It is summer and gas prices are up so business is slow.
A couple of my friends have pulled their car up near the pumps but left room for customers and they are playing some reggae on the stereo.
While I am fueling up a customer, I see another approaching on foot: an extremely pale caucasian in his mid-twenties with a shaved head wearing torn shorts and a [Heavy Metal Band] T-Shirt. I try to get the attention of my friends to turn the music down but they don’t hear me.
While I finish fueling the car, he gets some pop from the cooler and waits. I notice that he has started tapping his foot not impatiently but with our music.
Me: “You like this music?”
Customer: “H*** yeah, [Reggae Artist playing at the moment]! Hooah!”
He put his bag with his pop back in the cooler to keep it cold and hung around chilling with us for about ten minutes. I learned that day not to jump to conclusions about customers.
