Didn’t Score A Perfect 100

| VA, USA | Working | September 2, 2015

(I’m grabbing some cigarettes for my dad at the gas station we always go to. A guy I haven’t seen before is working.)

Clerk: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Me: “Hi, how are you?”

Clerk: “Good! How are you?”

Me: “I’m great! Can I just have a carton of [Brand] normal, not 100s, please?”

Clerk: *grabs pack of 100s* “These?”

Me: “No, the regular ones, please. A carton, please, not pack.”

Clerk: *grabs for pack of regular* “Here you go.”

Me: “Yes, those, but can I have a carton? The one with a lot of those in it?”

Clerk: “Oh, packet!” *hands me a carton of 100s*

Me: “…Can I have the regular ones, please? Not 100s?”

(He starts looking around and finds some behind him. With a big smile he puts them on the counter.)

Clerk: “Here you go!”

(I hand him $100.)

Clerk: *looks at his boss* “Is this legal?!”

(I eventually get my change and head out to the car where my dad is waiting.)

Dad: “What took so long?”

Me: “New guy.”

(The people there are always very nice. I hope he was just having an off day!)

Rage Against The Rage Against The Machine

| TX, USA | Right | September 1, 2015

(I’m one of the customers in this story and am shopping at a well-know Texan gas station after work. In addition to walking in to prepay for my gas, I also pick up a snack item and an ICEE for me to eat on my back home. However, as I walking to one of the three or four ICEE machines I hear:)

ICEE Machine: “Please place the lid on your cup before dispensing your ICEE. Please place the lid on your cup before dispensing your ICEE.”

(This causes me to take a step back and blink before laughing, knowing some fool must have made a mess before. However, I do as the machine instructs and head over to the cashier, still shaking my head.)

Cashier: *scanning my items* “Is this going to be everything?”

Me: “Actually, I need [amount] on [pump].”

(The cashier brings up my car to make sure I have the right number. Before I can continue we hear another customer at the ICEE machine.)

Other Customer: “F***! Your machine is broken! It sprayed this s*** all over me!”

(He comes around the corner, wearing his ICEE and holding – you guessed it – the cup without the lid on it. I let the cashier fix the idiot’s problem, but then hear:)

Customer: “You should put a fucking out-of-order sign on that they all spray -” *he notices I have an ICEE cup that’s filled to the top of the lid* “Which machine did you get that from?!”

(I point to the one I used.)

Customer: “THAT’S THE ONE I USED! ALL IT DID WAS SPRAY AND DUMP IT ALL OVER THE SIDE OF MY CUP!”

(At this point I had enough of his stupidity and decide to shut him up with showing him up. I walk over to the machine. It, like last time, gave out the direction to put the lid on before dispensing.)

Me: *mockingly* “Oh, ‘Please place the lid on your cup before dispensing your ICEE.’ Gee, I guess I should do that; no telling what could happen if I don’t.”

(I look back and dispense a color ICEE that matches the mess that was left on the cup he’s now tossed without a problem.)

Me: “Wow! That was so nice and easy, and I don’t have any mess on me!”

(At this point the customer is now cherry red and stammering.)

Other Customer: “Uhhh… umm… bu…”

(He then takes his leave before causing any more problems. At the same time, the cashier was back at the counter with another employee.)

Me: “Sorry about that. Though, I guess I’ll buy two ICEEs.”

Other Employee: “No, you won’t. Your total is [half of the amount I asked for my gas]”

Me: “Uhhh… but that’s not even what I asked for gas.”

Other Employee: “After what you did for us, let us help you.”

(Turned out the other employee was the shift manager and he basically let me walk out only paying $20 for a full tank of gas, 2 ICEEs, and my snack.)

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Should Pre-Pray For A Good Pre-Pay

| Dallas, TX, USA | Right | August 27, 2015

(All of the pumps at our gas station are self-serve, and have large white 6″x6″ signs adhered to them, with large red block lettering that reads, “PLEASE PREPAY OR PAY AT THE PUMP.” I’m focusing on some paperwork when I hear banging on the window.)

Customer: “TURN ON THE PUMP!” *pointing at her red oversized truck*

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you are at a prepay pump. You will need to prepay, pay at the pump, or leave a driver’s license before you can pump your gas.”

Customer: “I don’t have to do any of that!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid you do. It wouldn’t be fair to our other customers if I just let you pump without paying or leaving a license first.”

Customer: “There is a list of people who don’t have to prepay or leave anything!”

Me: *looking for said list inside the fresh box of hell that surrounds me* “Ma’am, the only list we have is of bad check writers, and I’m sure you don’t want your name on that one.”

(Customer stomps back to her truck. I go back to my paperwork. About two minutes pass and I look out to see the same customer jumping up and down in front of everyone, screaming rhythmically…)

Customer: “TURN! ON! THE PUMP! TURN! ON! THE PUMP! TURN! ON! THE PUMP!”

Me: *through the intercom* “Ma’am, you are at a prepay pump. You can either prepay, pay at the pump, or leave a driver’s license before you can pump your gas.”

(Customer gets in her truck and peels out from the pump, to the main store across the parking lot, narrowly missing three other cars and a pedestrian, and then parks in the fire lane, directly in front of the main doors. The phone rings; it’s the manager from the main store.)

Manager: “Is there a list of people who don’t have to prepay or leave a driver’s license in there?”

Me: “No, sir. Just a list of bad check writers.”

Manager: “That’s what I thought. Thank you.” *hangs up*

(From across the parking lot, I see this customer exit the store just steaming. She gets back into her truck, and again peels out of the parking lot, again barely missing passing cars and pedestrians.)

Making A Clean Start

| GA, USA | Working | July 16, 2015

(After being hired on and trained at one gas station, the company sends me to another location on the outskirts of town to be my normal store. Immediately upon arriving, I notice how gross the station is: bugs crawling all over everything, the floor in desperate need of mopping, and a cappuccino machine that has never been cleaned. I do my best to clean what I can, but with no one else cleaning, it’s a losing battle. However, I have a light at the end of the tunnel: there’s a big inspection in one week, with the owner of the place showing up personally. I work that night, and come in excitedly to hear how badly we failed.)

Coworker: “Hello, [My Name].”

Me: “Hi! How did inspection go?”

Coworker: “Oh, we got an x—” *mumbles*

Me: *hopes rising* “An ‘X’? What does that mean?”

Coworker: “An EX-cellent. We only got three demerits! The owner was impressed.”

(The worst part? The cappuccino machine wasn’t even one of the demerits.)

Maybe Should Switch To Decaf

| KS, USA | Friendly | July 9, 2015

(I am a second lieutenant in the Army. One afternoon, I decide to make a coffee run to the closest gas station. I’m still on post and everyone is in uniform, with ranks clearly displayed. I grab my coffee and get in line behind a warrant officer. The current cashier closes her lane.)

Cashier #1: “Hey guys, we’re opening this lane, I can take some of you over here!”

(There are several enlisted ahead of the warrant, and they shift over. I wait for him to move, but he just stands there. Since there is a bit of a gap between him and the enlisted, I assume he’s just standing, and I mistakenly thought him in line. Thinking nothing of it, I move over to the new lane. When I glance behind me, I see the warrant officer, glaring at me.)

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, Chief. Here…” *starts to move to let him ahead*

Warrant Officer: *using a sarcastic tone* “No. You’re obviously in a hurry, ma’am.”

(I look at him in surprise; he’s glaring at me and his tone is very surly. I realize that he thinks I stepped ahead of him, assuming I could because I outrank him. Note that while I outrank him, I am younger by probably a good ten years.)

Me: *in a conciliatory tone* “I apologize. You didn’t move, and I thought…”

Warrant Officer: *sounding extremely condescending and sarcastic now* “No, ma’am, you needed your coffee.”

(I’m beginning to feel hot under the collar at his obvious mistreatment, but I’m not the type of officer to throw my weight around carelessly. I decide that if he’s going to act childishly, that’s his problem, so I turn around and accept my place in line. Suddenly, another cashier comes up.)

Cashier #2: “I can take someone over here.”

(I decide to stick with my line, but the warrant officer has other ideas.)

Warrant Officer: *making over-large and unnecessary gestures* “Ma’am. Ma’am, they can take you now.”

(I turn around slowly and look him dead in the eye. While I’d love nothing more than to rip him one, there are several young enlisted watching, as well as the cashiers, to see what I do. The warrant is clearly gunning for a fight. I take a breath and say…)

Me: *keeping my cool, while still maintaining direct eye contact* “Okay, Chief.”

(I go to the next lane, quietly pay for my coffee, and leave, never once glancing back at the warrant. I don’t know what his deal was that day, but if he was looking to embarrass a new second-looey, he picked the wrong officer.)

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