Old Enough To Know Better To Not Let Go

| CA, USA | Friendly | December 4, 2015

(It should be noted that I am 18, but I am small for my age and I look a lot younger than I am. I am sitting around the corner of a gas station, smoking, waiting for my friend to finish filling up her car. A customer comes out of the store and approaches me.)

Customer: “Hey, do you have another smoke?”

Me: “Yeah, sure.”

(I pull the box out of my pocket and, being polite, offer for him to take one out of the box.)

Customer: “Are you old enough to smoke? Are you twenty-one or eighteen or however old you have to be?”

Me: “Um, yes. I’m 18.”

Customer: *tries to take the whole pack from me* “You’re not old enough to smoke! You don’t look old enough!”

Me: *holding tightly to the nearly full pack* “I can assure you that I am old enough.”

Customer: *gives up and finally only takes one cigarette* “You’re not old enough!”

(I sigh in relief as he starts to walk away.)

Customer: *yelling from down the street* “You’re not old enough!”

An Explosive Realization

| St George, UT, USA | Working | November 27, 2015

(I stopped at a local gas station one day to fill my truck up. Another patron is also filling up her vehicle in the next pump. I notice an employee checking the garbage next to the pumps. This doesn’t bother me at first, until I noticed a light cigarette in her hand. My mouth is agape at first but without hesitation, confronted her.)

Me: “Excuse me? Are you kidding me right now?!”

Employee: *she gives me the most confusing stare* “What?”

Me: “You have a light cigarette in your hand, right next to the gas pumps! You’re not supposed to do that. It’s dangerous!”

Employee: *just shrugs* “Sorry. Don’t worry, though. It’s okay. I’m not even near you, anyway.”

Me: *I scoff and give a nervous chuckle* “Okay?! Death by second hand smoke is one thing lady, but death by second hand explosion is another!”

Other Patron: *starts to giggle loudly*

(The employee’s face was completely red as she went back to her smoking station on the side of the building, away from the pumps. As I finished filling up and drove away, the employee gave me the biggest glare. Needless to say, I never filled up at that particular gas station ever again.)

No License To Be An A**-Hole

| NY, USA | Right | November 22, 2015

(Our store has a scanner that we use to scan both products and IDs. Without scanning an ID, we literally cannot ring up age-restricted products like tobacco, lottery, alcohol, and even lighters. There is absolutely no way to bypass the system and hand type in the birthday, and the system has been in for nearly a year. I’ve worked here for about five months.)

Older Man: “…and give me a pack of [Brand] cigarettes.”

Me: “Okay, sir, may I just scan your license?”

Older Man: “What, I don’t look old enough?”

Me: “That is not the case, sir. Unfortunately, unless I physically scan the barcode on the back of your license, I cannot ring up cigarettes.”

Older Man: “That’s b*******. I’ve come here every other day and they’ve just typed in my birthday.”

Me: “…No, you have not.”

Older Man: “Excuse me, you stupid little girl?!”

(I am a transgender male, so this hit a real hard spot. I know I won’t get in trouble if I explain myself to my manager in the morning, so I go off.)

Me: “Do NOT lie to me, sir. I have worked here for almost five months and this system was in long before I started working here. I have not ONCE seen you, despite working all three shifts on multiple occasions. You have been incredibly rude this entire transaction, and you have outwardly misgendered me and I will NOT tolerate dealing with someone as horrible as you. You need to leave.”

Older Man: “This is all kinds of f***ed up. I hope you f***ing lose your job, you dumb, stupid b****.”

Me: “If you do not leave this instant I will call the police for harassment. We have your license plate and you swearing on tape.” *I point up to the camera above my head*

Older Man: “…but they ALWAYS just type in my birthday!”

(He left, but not without spitting on the door first!)

Fuelled By The Lord

| MN, USA | Right | November 7, 2015

Me: *working the register as a customer approaches* “Hello, how are you?”

Customer: “I’ve been standing outside for ten minutes waiting for you to turn the pump on!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, you need to be sure to press pay inside, or swipe your credit card before the pump can be activated.”

Customer: “No, no. YOU need to start it for me.”

(She reaches towards me, and I take a step back as she grabs my arm. As her eyes are closed she says:)

Customer: “God has commanded you to turn it on.”

Me: *as she is heading outside* “All right, be sure to press pay inside, then.”

(I watch as she presses the button, pumps her fuel, and comes back inside.)

Customer: “Did you feel him?”

Immediately Discount Their Argument

| Auckland, New Zealand | Right | November 5, 2015

(I have served a customer and she has come back in with a malicious look on her face.)

Me: “What’s the issue, ma’am?”

Customer: You didn’t ask me for my discount card.”

Me: “Oh, my apologies. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything to give you that discount now because it has to go through the till first, but there is a number on the back of your card you can call and they can help you.”

Customer: “Why didn’t you ask me for it?”

Me: “It’s up to you to use it, I’m afraid.”

Customer: “I am going to need to take your name and managers number. Give it to me.”

Me: “You knew you had that card perfectly well. My name is not for you to know, and if you are here to stir trouble, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “This is outrageous! I did not come to this country to be treated like this by customer service!”

Me: “And I do not work my a** off seven days a week for people like you to come in here and attack me like this. Get out.”

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