They’re Blowing Smoke

(I’m a teenage girl and I work at my father’s gas station. While it’s a good neighborhood and he knows I can take care of myself, he has audio and video cameras up for his own peace of mind. One weekend afternoon, a car pulls up into the fire lane. A young girl I don’t recognize, probably no older than 18, jumps out of the driver side. She comes into the store and up to the counter.)

Girl: “I need a pack of [Cigarettes].”

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

Girl: “I left it at home.”

Me: “Sorry. Feel free to come back later when you’ve got it with you. Have a nice day.”

Girl: “Oh, come on! I’m 18, I swear!”

Me: “Sorry, I really can’t. It’s against the law.”

Girl: ”Don’t be such a f****** b****, and sell me the f****** cigarettes!”

Me: “Do you realize that all our transactions are video and audio recorded?”

Girl: “The f*** does that have to do with anything?”

Me: “I’ve got you on tape asking me to break the law, I’ve got you on video parked illegally in the fire lane, and I can assure you that your plates are on camera, too. And, since you are refusing to show me an ID, I know that you’re driving without a driver’s license. Would you like this b**** to call the police now?”

Girl: *turns white and runs out of the building*