Customer: “How much for a carton of cigarettes, [Brand #1]?”

Me: “$12, sir.”

Customer: “And [Brand #2]?”

Me: “$15, sir.”

Customer: *places a handful of one-dollar bills and some change on the counter* “All right, give me [Brand #1] and take what’s left from the change to pump two.”

(I start counting the cash and then pause.)

Me: “Sir? With tax, you’ll only be able to put a dollar worth of gas on pump two.”

Customer: “Just do it already!”

(Sadly, this was not the first time something like this had happened.)

A young girl comes up and asks me to set pump 7 for ten dollars. It stops around 9.40, give or take. She comes back. I hand her the change and thank her. She gives me a long suspicious look and a woman comes up (her mother I assume), hands on her hips.

Customer: I gave you ten!
Me: Yes so it must be full-
Customer: *flailing her hands* I GAVE YOU TEN WHY WOULD I NOT GET TEN.
Me: You hung the nozzle up, ma’am it must be full-

She keeps on ranting and raving on how she gave me ten and why would she not get ten and I have a hard time getting a word in edgewise;

Me: Ma’am. Ma’am. I can…I can set it to [change] and you can try- Ma’am I CAN SET IT TO [CHANGE]- you hung the nozzle up it is likely full- I can set it again if-
Customer: *to girl* C’mon this bitch is dumb.
She storms off.
Me: I can do math.

(I’m in high school on an out-of-state field trip. We stop for lunch on the final day of the trip and my friend and I finish early. We decide to walk to the gas station down the street so my friend can buy some candy for the remainder of the trip and I can try to find a souvenir that’s not fragile or grossly overpriced. Only two employees are working in the gas station, one in the back room and one behind the cash register. My friend buys her candy and waits for me outside while I look for a souvenir. I find one that I like and can afford and bring it to the counter. Keep in mind that everything said up until now has been in English and there is nothing about me or the cashier to indicate that either of us know Spanish at all.)

Cashier: “¡Hola! ¿Como estás?”

(I’m surprised, but decide to use what I’ve learned in the Spanish classes I’ve been taking, since I know enough to hold a basic conversation and have a good accent.)

Me: “Cansado. ¿Y tu?”

Cashier: *deer in the headlights look* “Oh sh**.”

(The employee in the back lost it laughing while I hurriedly explained that I actually did speak English and was taking Spanish as a second language. The cashier rang up my souvenir and just for kicks, I called out, “¡Adios!” as I was leaving. The guy in the back was still laughing at the cashier when I left. I wonder if he ever tried that again.)

(My friend and I are driving from Florida to New York when we stop for gas and snacks. We gather our goodies and wait for our turn. The woman in front of us walks up to the register and dumps an armful of candy, soda, and chips on the counter. The cashier scans her items.)

Cashier: “Okay, your total comes to [total].”

Customer: “You didn’t ask if that was all I wanted.”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like anything else?”

Customer: “I want cigarettes. [Brand].”

Cashier: “Sure thing. I just need to see your ID.”

Customer: “No.”

Cashier: *momentarily confused* “Uh, I’m sorry?”

Customer: “You don’t need my ID.”

Cashier: *gestures to a sign* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I do. You see, the system is set up so we have to ID for all tobacco sales. There’s no way around it.”

Customer: “Don’t I look eighteen?! Are you seriously going to say I can’t have my cigarettes?”

Cashier: “I’m just following protocol, ma’am.”

Customer: “F*** your protocol, you ugly-a** b****. Do I look like I’m under eighteen?”

Cashier: *calmly* “Clearly not.”

Customer: “So? Give me my f****** cigarettes before I really get mad.”

Cashier: “I need to see your ID before giving you these cigarettes. I apologize for the inconvenience but that’s how the system is set up.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t have it, so now what?”

Cashier: “If you don’t have it, I can’t sell them to you. Your total is [total]. Will that be cash or card?”

Customer: “I’m not buying s*** from this f****** store. You can go f*** yourself!”

(The cashier picks up the woman’s purchases and puts them behind the register. The two stare at each other in silence for what seems like forever — probably only about ten seconds — before the woman leans over the register and screams right in the cashier’s face. She barely reacts, only sighs and waves us forward. The woman storms out.)

Me: “How did you not smack that woman stupid?”

Cashier: “It would seem someone else has already done it for me.”

Me: “You do not get paid enough for that.”

Cashier: “Nope. I stopped getting mad a long time ago.” *shrugs* “It’s not worth the stress.”

(I’m 19 but look a LOT younger than my age. I’m driving home from college for winter break. I stop at a gas station at the halfway point for coffee, and when I go to check out, an older gentleman gets in line behind me. I can feel him inching closer to me than he needs to. I pull out my cellphone both to pass the time and to text my roommate about how uncomfortable I’m getting; when I’m halfway into the text, I can feel him literally looming over my shoulder.) 

Older Man: “What would you do without that cellphone, huh?”

Me: *chuckling to play along* “I’d probably be lost—“

(I was about to explain I was using it as a GPS, but he interjects quickly.)

Older Man: “You’d probably have a lot more time to communicate with people. I bet you don’t even know the English language, do ye?”

Me: “Actually, I do. I’m an English major.” 

(He went pretty much quiet after that, and continued to stay within five inches of my personal space until it was my turn. Even the cashier looked sorry. I’m always a fan of small talk, but maybe don’t open with an attack?)