From One_Eyed_Tiger: Wild Coyote gas station has the jokes.
I work part time as a gas station attendant at a popular gas station/convenience store in a state that doesn't allow you to pump your own gas. I only ever work the 3rd shift (overnight shift), and I want to preface this story by saying that, in our chain, all of the money is removed from the fuel kiosks at the beginning of 3rd shift, leaving it empty usually until 1st shift (early morning shift) begins. On the sides of each kiosk, in 40pt text, are statements saying that all customers must have exact change, pay by card, or pay inside. Most customers are okay with this or only gripe for a few seconds, but if this were one of those instances, I wouldn't be posting here, would I? To the story!
I had just finished topping off a car when a guy in a blue pickup pulled into the next lane. I'll be Me and he'll be Grump.
Me: Hi! What can I get you?
Grump: (gruffly) $10.00, cash, regular
Me: Sure. Do you have exact change? There's nothing in my till past 11.
I assumed this was acknowledgment and agreement, so I started pumping and went to help another car. When the pump finished, he hands me a $20.
Me: I'm sorry, sir, but as I said, I have no money in my till.
Grump: I don't have anything else!
Me: That's fine. All you have to do is head inside and let a cashier know that you're paying for [his pump #], and you're good to go!
Grump: But I was just in there! I don't want to go back inside!
By this point, we're only 20 minutes into my shift, meaning traffic isn't going to slow enough that I could run inside and get him change (not that I was obligated to, but I do it as a courtesy sometimes) for another hour at least. By this time, another car had pulled up and was waiting for gas. I apologized again and told him that there was no other option.
Grump: (snatching the $20 out of my hand and handing me a $5 and five singles, which he apparently didn't have 30 seconds ago) Here!
He then drove out of the fuel court, parked in the main store lot, and went inside, leaving me shaking my head. My manager later told me that he'd complained about me, but after reviewing the tapes, knew I'd done nothing wrong. What really gets me is that he was too important to pay inside, but his misplaced righteous anger motivated him enough to go inside to complain.
From Eric From Ohio:
As a suffering retail manager; I try to treat my employees better than I remember being treated when I was in their place. This dumb bitch was transfered from another store to mine via request of that store's manager. The manager warned she whined, cried and was valued as being little more than a warm body to get the job done (which she came nowhere close to doing anyway). I felt bad for her. So she begins working at my store. 1st thing is, dumb bitch cries at the drop of a hat. Boo fucking hoo missy! This is R-E-T-A-I-L! Where we are DOOMED to a life in RETAIL HELL! Secondly, my other employees and those from other stores believe her to be a junkie (frequent trips to the restroom with a wallet not large enough to hold a tampon). Last Monday night, dumb bitch calls me, her manager, as I'm finally having dinner with my parents (retail hours y'all). She begins WAILING, wretchedly whining that she has been back and forth to the restroom throwing up all night long. Keep in mind, I left the store at 3pm and it is now 7:30. I told her she needed to tell the Assistant Manager (who she was working with) if she felt that she needed to go home. She said she would do that and I didn't hear from her again that night. The next day, the Assistant Manager told me she worked her entire shift and was quite 'bubbly' when 3rd shift arrived at 10:30. Today, Tuesday, everyone in the company sees the following on her Facebook. DUMB BITCH!
--Eric From Ohio
A woman wanted to prepay for some gas, I asked which pump she was on.
Woman: "I don't know. There aren't any numbers on your pumps."
Me: "Actually, the numbers are posted twice, once on the pump itself and once on the pillar above it."
Woman: "No! There aren't any numbers on your pumps."
At this point I was honestly trying to be helpful, so I tried to point to one of the numbers visible from where we were standing.
Me: "Well, see the numbers are-"
Woman: "No. They're not there."
I’ve been working pumping gas for a fairly large grocery chain and I really had my first TFR moment yesterday.
So it’s labor day weekend, pretty busy for the station I work at, we get rushes that last anywhere from 5-20 minutes depending on the time of day.
At the start of one of them in the early afternoon I encounter perhaps one of the longest interactions just setting everything up for a customer that I have had.
The customer is an old man, and a rather slow one at that. He pulls in at a regular speed, stops and gets out of the car.
M (me): Hi how are we doing today?
OM (Old Man): good, can you check the number for my rewards card, it’s XXX-XXX-XXXX.
So I go, punch in the numbers and no discount shows up.
M: So there wasn’t a discount, do you want me to check again to make sure.
I punch in the number again and still no discount.
M: So there still isn’t a discount.
OM: Ok, but it is the number for the account right.
M: It seems to be.
OM: Why is the price higher on here?
M: It shows the highest possible price that the gas could cost by law, which is the credit price, you shouldn’t worry about it you’ll be fine.
I press the button to continue on to the next screen when out of nowhere.
So I run his card again, and lo and behold, it is credit.
M: So as it turns out, you will be getting the higher price because you are paying with credit
OM: Oh no, I don’t want to do that I’ll pay with cash instead.
M: So how much would you like with cash today?
OM: fifteen dollars.
So I get it all set up and get the gas pumping. It’s at this point when at the end of my patience I go to help another customer and I don’t have to interact with OM again.
A few minutes later I see the cashier take him his change, after which he stares at his receipt for a minute and then drives off at what seemed to be a leisurely crawl.