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I Was Going to Put This Under Not Always Right, But then I Thought NAW…

, , , , , | Right | September 11, 2021

A woman comes in on a holiday weekend; our station is on a main road so we are INSANELY busy.

Customer: “I left my receipt when I got gas. I need it! I’m a cab driver!”

Me: “What time did you come in, and what pump did you use?”

Customer: “It was hours ago! I can’t remember!”

Me: “Okay, how much did you spend?”

Customer: “I can’t remember! Find my receipt!”

After several minutes of a building line and being called every name under the sun, I finally say:

Me: “Ma’am, would you like for me to print you a random receipt from the approximate time you were in? Because outside of that, there is literally nothing I can do without some kind of information.”

She curses me out again and leaves. The next day, I have a write-up waiting because the customer lied and said I screamed at her and called her a “stupid f****** b****.”

Of course, I didn’t say that, and I explain this to the manager.

Manager: “Even if you didn’t actually say it, your face did.”

So, I’m in trouble for something I DIDN’T say?! I hated that store so much.

It’s Gonna Be One Of Those Prepay Days

, , , | Right | August 17, 2021

I’m getting ready to drive from [Frequently Visited Small Town] to my home near [Big, Distant City]. I stop at the town’s sole gas station to fill up. All pumps have a paper sign that says, “Prepay only,” so I enter the gas station to give them my card.

Me: “I’d like to prepay for a fill-up. I don’t know how much it will be.”

Attendant: “Take a guess; we can refund the difference between what you pay and what you pump.” *Pauses* “Oh, and our card machines sometimes don’t work.” *Pauses* “Insert your card and see what happens.”

I insert my card, approve a guesstimate, and wait. The attendant shows me where my card was accepted, but the transaction did not go through. I pocket my card.

Me: *Greening* “I guess I will pay with green pieces of paper, then.”

Attendant: “You mean you have cash?

Me: “Yep.

I hand over a twenty-dollar bill. I then pump something less than $20 worth of gas, check my card’s account with my smartphone to make sure it was not charged for the gas, and return to the attendant, who gives me the correct change for the $20.

Attendant: “Thank you for not yelling at us!”

Me: “You mean people get angry at you when they have to pay cash?”

Attendant: “You couldn’t imagine!”

Even Two Energy Drinks Won’t Give You The Energy For This

, , , | Right | August 8, 2021

I stop in a petrol garage halfway through a long drive and pick up some food and an energy drink.

Cashier: “Oh, these are two for £1.50.”

Me: “Great, I’ll take two.”

I look back at the massive queue.

Me: “Can you scan that twice and I will pick up one on my way out?”

Cashier: “Sure.”

I pay for my things, grab a second bottle, and hold it up so the cashier can see that I remembered and go to leave. I get as far as the door.

Customer: “Hey, you stop.”

Me: “I already paid for this; you can ask the cashier if you are bothered.”

Customer: “I’m not letting you leave.”

Cashier: “Sir, sir, it’s fine; he’s already paid.”

Customer: *Ignoring her* “I don’t know what things have come to today. In my day, I— Hey! Where are you going?!

I duck under his arm.

Me: “I really don’t have time for this. I have a long drive.”

Cashier: “Sir, please leave him alone.”

Customer: “What?! What is going on? You need to—”

Cashier: “No, you need to leave other customers alone. I have told you twice now. Now join the queue or I will have to call the police.”

I got in my car and I could still hear the other customer ranting. I didn’t wait around for what happened next, but I hope the cashier put him in his place.

A Whole Ute-Load Of Entitlement

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: Kookabanus | August 6, 2021

I am filling my ute (pickup truck) at the service station. I have been out working my bees, so I am dirty, sweaty, and tired. I’m wearing an old, stained T-shirt, shorts, and thongs (flip flops). I in no way look like I worked here.

A young woman in her twenties pulls up to the other side of my fuel pump. She is dressed in sharp business style, complete with high heels and false nails. As she starts to walk inside the store, she says to me:

Woman: “Fill my tank when you are done there.”

Me: “Uh… I don’t work here, lady.”

Woman: “Ugh! I don’t care! Just fill the d*** car!”

And then she storms off inside with a clatter of high heels.

I just shrug, finish filling my tank, and head inside to pay. I have no f***s left to give these days. It might have been different if there had been some common courtesy used, a “please” or “thank you” or “a could you possibly help me,” but brusque orders are the absolute best way to piss this old guy off.

I head to the counter and see that the woman is already waiting there to one side.

Me: “Number four pump.”

Woman: “And I am on number five.”

The guy behind the register looks surprised.

Cashier: “There is only one sale, for the number four pump.”

Me: “Yep.”

I hand him my card.

Woman: “He filled my car, too.”

Me: “Nope.”

The woman instantly goes from zero to Uzi, red-faced and shouting, because apparently, I have defied her command.

Woman: “I told you to fill the f****** tank! Jesus Christ, are you f****** stupid.”

And so on.

Me: “Look, b****, I don’t work here, I don’t work for you, and I most certainly don’t take orders from arrogant c***s, so get out there and pump your own f****** fuel.”

She ranted some more. I left, too tired, don’t care.

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 24

, , , | Right | August 6, 2021

I’m female, and I’m not fat but I have a bit of a belly. Because of that bit of a belly and feeling a bit self-conscious about it, I exercise a lot. I’m having a miserable day; I’m not sick, just having “a case of the blahs,” as I like to call it. A customer comes up.

Customer: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “I’m just not feeling too good today. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “You know why you feel that way, right? You’re just nauseous because you’re three months pregnant. I bet it’s a girl.”

Me: *Stunned* “What?”

Customer: “Do you know who the father is? Women these days don’t always know.”

Me: *Still stunned but feeling fury rise within me* “Again, what?!” 

You would think my tone of voice would raise warning flags and survival instincts in most people, but this man clearly has no such warning system.

Customer: *Slowly like I’m being incredibly dense* “You… are… pregnant. That’s… why… you’re… nauseous.”

He gestures very obviously at my stomach.

Now, this man is NOT a regular. I don’t recall ever serving him before, so he certainly wouldn’t know whether or not I even have a boyfriend or husband — not that it’s any of his business even if he WAS a regular.

I already don’t feel good, but having a complete stranger say this sets me off. Add in the comment that I might not know who the father is… Well… I lose it. I slam my hand on the counter.

Me: “Sir, I may be fat, but you are an a**hole.”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, so first of all, how dare you make an assumption about me?! Second of all, how dare you double down like I’m too stupid to understand?! Third of all, implying that I’m a [slur for promiscuous women]?! I can lose this weight. You, however, will always be an a**hole. Get out!”

I had to storm off to the back to sit down and cool off, leaving a fellow (completely flabbergasted) coworker to the counter for a few minutes. I did get a write-up for calling him an a**hole, but slamming the man felt so good, it was worth it.

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 23
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 22
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 21
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 20
Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 19