Gas Station Slave Emma gets a Retail Balls Award for standing up to a couple of crustys that should have been bitch-slapped:
I work for a gas station in a suburb way close to a major metro area. We're right on the main road out of said metro area, and so during rush hours, we get a lot of cranky custys. Oh the stories I could tell.
But today I need to rant about one of them.
Let's call him Lottery Larry.
Lottery Larry comes in every day and gets, guess what, lottery tickets!
And once a week, he returns them for cash (telling me first, without using the self scanner [key component to what I'm getting at] what each ticket is worth.) He plays the games that require a lot of thinking and matching (like crosswords) and they are really easy to screw up.
Well today he comes in, excited because he won 62 dollars.
He tells me he has a $30, two $10s, and 4 $3s for winners.
I go to scan them on the main thing, and the amount shows on a screen he can see. I get to the last three, the $30 and supposed 2 $10s and one scans as 10 and the other scans as $9.
All the other tickets were the same.
And he flips shit.
"WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE STEALING FROM ME YOU BITCH!"
And I'm just sitting there dazed at his response.
"I'm not doing anything to try to "steal from you," sir," I reply. I rescan the ticket. It comes up as "credited to you today, 2 minutes ago. $9."
"You misread the ticket, sir."
I rip it up, as is required in my area
"I DID NOT IT WAS A TEN DOLLAR WINNER YOU TWAT."
"LISTEN, YOU. There are children in this store, and there's a massive line behind you. I have two vendors waiting to be paid and you're complaining about ONE. FUCKING. DOLLAR? Take your 61 dollars and go bother the lottery office!"
"Well, can I take the ticket as proof?" He asks, suddenly more calm.
"No. I have to keep it ripped up in my trash can."
"WELL YOU SUCK AT CUSTOMER SERVICE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET MY MONEY
I hand him the slips that print each time I scan a winner ticket.
"It's got the serial number at the top for each ticket."
I cash out the tickets and count the money back, shoving it into his hands, "Now get the fuck out."
He stormed off. The other customers cheered. The whole damn ordeal took more than 10 minutes.
Really, dude, a $1 difference and you're gonna be that way?
Not in my store.
* * * * *
The gas station chain I work for spans the upper Midwest and
east coast of the US. The logo is green and we have currently have a
promotional partnership with a grocery store, where you go to the
grocery store, and they give you a card that you can earn 10 cents off
per gallon of gas at my gas station with every 50 dollars you spend at
Win win, right?
Well the grocery store decided to not
only print the custys' current discount savings (0.10, 0.50, 2.60) at
the bottom of their receipts Oh no. They also print the total dollar
amount you have toward your next discount.
Right. Above. Your. Total.
Cue seriously bitchy custy.
It was a
Sunday afternoon, I'd just gotten on shift, and it was slow. In walks
seriously bitchy custy, she can't have been much more than 35 years old.
She's got a sweet little girl who I've seen come in with her daddy
from time to time, very polite child. I smile.
"Hi ------(child's name), is this your mommy?" I say, and then to
the woman, "Hi, how can I help you?"
"Yeah, how does this
rewards thing work?" she flashes the card in my face, like literally an
inch from my nose.
I sigh, but keep smiling.
cashier/attendant/multipurpose slaves were never really given a clear
cut way to explain the system, and the grocery store explains it wrong,
so I've had a few misadventures before this woman in trying to tell how
"Well, first of all, did you plan to pay at the pump, prepay, or
pump and then pay?" I asked, since she was parked at one of our 4 non
prepay only pumps.
She glares at me. "What does that matter?
Just tell me how it works!"
"Well, you spend $50 at the grocery store and you get .10 off per
"Nuh uh" she cut me off, digging through her purse.
She pulls out a receipt from the grocery store and shoves it in my
face. "It says I have $45.91 discount."
"No, ma'am, that's not how it works. That amount there? It's how much
you have toward your next .10 off per gallon. Your receipt says you
have .50 off per gallon right now."
"That's not what the
grocery clerk said!" she countered, her voice raising.
really hard at this moment to not start yelling at her.
"Well the grocery store clerk doesn't work here, does he?" I ask,
calmly and quietly.
She rolls her eyes.
"So did you want to
prepay, pay at the pump, or pay inside?" I ask.
She says "PREPAY."
Prepay is the most screwed up way to use the card. You have to
pick an amount and you get that full amount PLUS the discount (say you
normally get 5 gallons for 20 bucks, and you have 30 cents off per
gallon, you'd get closer to 6 gallons total) and I've had customers
scream at me for this before.
"How much would you like to prepay?"
"50 I guess," she
says, rolling her eyes again.
I punch in fifty dollars, and scan her
reward card. The discount's only available up to 20 gallons, and after
the discount, 50 bucks is more than 20 gallons.
The price reduces.
"Your total is $25 and change."
"I said FIFTY," she said in a huffy voice. I try to explain to her
why it did that.
She repeats herself, in a more angry tone.
it won't allow me to-"
"OH FUCK ALL THIS SHIT. I'LL JUST GO TO SUPERAMERICA."
out, dragging the poor little girl behind.
obvious that kid learned her manners from her daddy.
--Gas Station Slave Emma