I've only been working as a pump jockey since September, but it's already shot my patience. I've decided to write out a list of guidelines on how not to piss me off/ruin my day when I'm working at the gas station. There are some things I just can't fucking stand, and they happen every day I work several times a day, to the point where I sometimes end up shaking with anger. I just need to vent my frustrations, maybe get some laughs out of it before I explode and kill someone.
1. Do not, for whatever reason, toss your money onto the counter, say a pump number, and walk away when I'm not at the counter. Yes, I realize you realize I'm in the store, but I have other responsibilities I have to squeeze in between customers. I'll be at the counter in ten seconds, if you can't wait that long, pay at the pump. Seriously, if you walk out without me repeating the amount and pump number, I won't put it in. Especially if you're doing it because I'm dealing with another customer that's taking a while. If you think you'll bypass a line by doing that, you're so wrong. I'll fucking wait until everyone else is gone. And if you're doing it when I'm ten feet away mopping the floor, I'll wait until you come back inside pissed off because the pump isn't on.
2. Do not toss money at me for anything. The blank stare I give you when I look at you, down at the money, and back at you should tell you something. Kudos to the ones that get it and pick it up and hand it to me. Even sliding it to me is better than counting out the $30 in singles you want to prepay one by one into a heap on my counter.
I won't bitch at you for them not being faced, which is something that only bothers me (though I did have a woman apologize for that, bless her heart), but if you're just flinging a bunch of crumpled up dollar bills and scattering them onto my counter, please enjoy me picking them up, uncrumpling, and facing them all as slowly as I can. It's called passive aggression, and it's the closest thing to actual aggression I can show you without shoving the money into your mouth.
3. We are a prepay station. It says it on the pumps. Don't tell me it doesn't, because
I fucking know it does. Don't get all huffy at me because you can't read. No, I'm not going to turn the pump on for you because you don't know how much you want. Not how it works. I'm not gunna take the chance of someone driving off with my gas. There are three options, and I'll explain them to you if you ask. You can pay at the pump, prepay inside, or leave your card here and I'll turn on the pump so you can fill up.
4. Do NOT hit on me. Jesus Christ, really? I'm honestly not attractive enough by any means to warrant those stupid pick-up lines, and I'm not paid enough to deal with them. How desperate do you have to be to try and pick up the gas station chick? That's a story to tell your kids right there. Really, old dude, I don't want to have dinner with you. I don't want the purfume you're trying to give me. I really don't even want to be alone in the store with you. Seriously, you give me the creeps, please for the love of god leave. I might call the cops if you say "cutie on duty" one more fucking time.
5. Don't reach over my counter. I'm the only one working, I'm a girl, and when I first took the job my family was asking about the likelihood of me getting shot/robbed. I'm here to give you the shit behind the counter. Fucking ask. I hate lottery as it is, it's the fucking bane of my existence, so the fact that you're reaching over a lot of shit to get the tickets I'm going to hand you AFTER you pay drives me fucking insane. The counter is the line only employees can cross. We wouldn't keep the money and valuable items behind it if anyone could go back there.
5a. Speaking of employees only, and an occurance that just happened yesterday and blew my fucking mind, what makes you think you can just waltz into my cooler? "Fresh milk" is not a viable excuse. I'm right here, I just fucking walked past you not 30 seconds ago. Don't apologize for it like that'll make it better, you even consider thinking about it again and I'll call the cops. I'm the employee wearing this god awful polo, it's my job to get the shit you want. You want fresher milk, fine. Just say that and I'll go in to the cooler and get it for you, what with that being off-fucking-limits to anyone not in a matching god awful polo. Fucking dumbass.
6. Don't come in and ask if I'm out of gas if the sign on the door says I'm out of gas and every pump has an out of order sign on it. My answer will be, "No. No we do not have gas". Also, don't come in and ask if the lottery machine isn't working if the sign on the door says the lottery machine is not working. It's irritating and the only reason I won't flip out on you is because I hate lottery and lottery customers and I get off on telling them no. I promise you, just because you ask three times doesn't mean my answer will change. And if it does, it's just to fuck with you.
1. Do KNOW YOUR PUMP NUMBER. How many times to I have to ask what car you're driving before you'll fucking stop pointing out the window and saying "that one" accompanied by a vague hand gesture. The pump number is printed in HUGE FUCKING NUMBERS right above your FUCKING CAR. It's so god damn obnoxious to have to deal with an already huge line, when I'm the only one working, and having you come push yourself up to the front and bitch about why your pump isn't working.
First off, I'm dealing with the people that haven't already pissed me off first so I don't go off on you, and second, what makes you think pump 11, located between two other pumps, is number 1? It's not even a matter of how well you can read it. It's surrounded by other pumps. How does that even make sense? And for you bastards who come in to complain about the receipt not printing, why would you drive away from the pump without getting the number? Seriously, now I have no number and no car to identify the pump. So now I have you cutting the line so you can wave your arms around like a fucking nutjob because you haven't realized it's so much fucking easier to go outside and check the goddamn number.
2. Do respect store policies. See that sign right in front of you face that says 1 carton per customer per day? See the one that says cigarette and gift card purchases over $35 paid with credit requires your license number on the receipt? I didn't make that up. Fuck, I hate it. I hate when people bitch about it like this is the only place on earth they can buy cigarettes.
There are notes taped to my register saying if I don't get the information, I'll get
written up. I really can't afford to lose this job, and I actually do like it sometimes, so I'm going to enforce everying that my manager tells me to enforce. We have the policy because people like to come in and max out stolen credit cards on cigarettes and gift cards. There are limits established and the license number establishes liability so the store doesn't get reamed when fraud cases come up.
3. Do have your ID on you. Don't come in here and tell me you're here everyday, because I've never seen you before in my life and you look like you're 12. Listen, cops set up stings to catch people selling tobacco to minors. I'm so not getting caught up in that shit. If you're caught selling to minors, you'll get fired, fined, have to go to court, and the store gets fined and can lose it's license to sell tobacco. So don't try to sweet talk me before you decide you want smokes, I'll still card you. I love seeing people pretend to fish in their pockets then say it's out in their car. Ha, your car is parked right outside the window, I can see you swearing and driving off without hesitation. It makes me feel warm inside. And, you know what, if you bitch about how you're 25 when you look like you're in high school, and you go out and get your ID and it actually shows you're 25, good for you.
You proved me wrong. It really, honestly doesn't bug me that I'm selling to someone that's old enough to buy it. I know it sucks if you look young. I just turned 21 and I got carded for an R rated movie a few months back. Get over it. And, no, I can't accept a ticket. I actually do feel bad about that, since I've had to drive on a ticket before. But I have an ID card and a driver's license. If my license is taken away, I still have my state ID to prove how old I am. Show me a state ID, license, or a passport, and we're good. And don't throw a fit about me not accepting a ticket when the cool cop standing in the store says it's not acceptable. He's the law, yo.
Sorry it's long, but I needed to get it off my chest. I really do like working in the gas station. It's nice to work by myself a lot of the time. I deal with customers, clean, catch up on RHU, whatever. I have regular customers I can chat with, and some super nice people come in.
There are even some people that wait to come inside the store if I'm smoking. This is
always a welcome suprise. Usually people just walk past and go up to the counter. But some tell me they're not coming in until I'm done, some just wait in their car, and some smoke with me and chat. I don't get breaks, obviously, since I'm the only one working, so I just adore the people that let me engage in my filthy habit, since I often have to choose between cleaning, going to the bathroom, eating, or smoking when I have a few minutes between rushes. Big love.
Anything any other gas slaves/customers want to add?
Stay gassy, my friends.