The Best of Dumber Than Advertised (The Gas Station Years, Part 2)

One of my regulars, a stripper, reached into the waistband of her jeans to pull money from her garter to pay for gas, then handed me an unused pair of pasties as a thank-you for my "dedicated service".

A customer handed me four singles for gas and a five dollar bill, which he wanted changed to singles. *blink*

This isn't something that just happened; it's just that I'm thinking of it now. Three of the women here are pregnant and the only male employee is going to be a father any day now. Our new hire just had a baby a few weeks ago. Sanity/intelligence check: 1) How do you support a family on this pay? 2) One of the pregnant women stays late so she doesn't have to deal with her existing kids - why is she having another one? 3) Another of the pregnant women didn't seem happy when she announced the news so I asked if I should congratulate her. "Everyone else is!" she snapped in reply.

A couple of drunks came in, bloodied up from a fight. They were rather rowdy and generally acting like asses. One of them asked if I had a boyfriend; I lied and said I had a girlfriend. "I'll be she's not as manly as me!" he boasted as he grinned and showed off his beer belly. "I certainly hope not, sir," I replied as I cashed them out.

A customer asked if I'd seen a gold Ford Explorer because he'd lent it to someone in his subdivision a week prior who claimed to be a preacher, and the alleged preacher hadn't yet returned it. He asked my advice on the situation and I suggested he file a police report. He was reluctant to do so because he'd loaned it to the guy and seemed shocked when I pointed out that borrowing without returning is theft.

A customer complained that he'd been waiting ten minutes for his pump to turn on and snapped that he would have left for another station if he weren't out of gas. I asked if he'd not heard me say twice over the intercom that he needed to pre-pay at that particular pump and he said that he hadn't because his hearing is bad. And yet he heard me just fine inside the store as I spoke in a normal volume and pitch, with other people talking around him and a stereo going in the background. Never mind that there are huge fuck-off signs stating pre-pay status on applicable pumps. He then asked if I were going to call the cops on him to report him as a drive-off. Apparently the entire concept of pre-pay eludes this man.

"It's not fair! It's not fair! It's not right!! Y'all are price gouging! Gas in Villa Rica is fourteen cents cheaper! Where do you get off charging $2.76?!?" My attempts at empathy, including telling her I'd just filled up in Douglasville because it's cheaper, failed to ease the situation. God, I love my job...

I suppose it's some sort of hideous testament to Carroll County that I can't tell if the locals are high, retarded, or suffering from a speech impediment. I eventually worked out that this guy was asking if I were related to the Huddlestons in Mount Zion. He was determined to not take "no" for an answer.

A customer was offended that I wasn't having "a big Easter" because I don't have kids. He was also disappointed that I wouldn't share an Easter egg with him. He was quite drunk.

A customer at pump 1 asked to pre-pay $5 so I set the pump for him. He then proceeded to move his car to the other side of the island and couldn't figure out why an entirely different pump than the one he'd pre-paid wouldn't turn on for him.

"Are you open?" - No, you moron, the doors are open and we're lit up like the 4th of July merely to taunt you with the illusion of service.

Putting away opened cartons of cigarettes from 2nd shift. There are 27 packs of Benson & Hedges Light 100's already in the rack, despite selling perhaps three packs a month. Some dork opened a new carton for one pack of these.

I hate people who try to take advantage. A woman came in with no ID, so she couldn't write a check. All she said she needed was a single-serve pack of Tylenol, which comes to $1.39 with tax. She had about $.75 so, in the spirit of generosity (and because she looked like hell), I made up the difference from my own pocket. She then asked if I could cover her for a pack of Motrin, too. She seemed taken aback when I told her "no". (This incident inspired a poem of which I'm rather proud, if I may say so.)

A middle-aged customer didn't know that the orange-handled pot is decaf; I thought that was universal in the States. Next he asked if he could fill his cup or if he only got half of its capacity. Then he asked if lids cost extra. To the best of my estimation, these were all legitimate questions. Is there some significance to the fact that he looked like a human-sized Bilbo Baggins?

As you all know, gas station attendants are the repository of all navigational knowledge. Someone just asked how long it would take to get from here to some obscure little town in Tennessee. We're at least four hours away from the Tennessee border.

This is a first. A guy came in wearing jeans hanging off his ass to show his boxers. That's not the new part. What's new is that he also had sweat pants on over the jeans, which were hanging down to his knees. Does not getting it make me a square?

(A few days after re-branding by the new parent company): A customer noticed my new shirt reading "Kangaroo Express" and asked if we weren't "Cowboys" anymore. I told him we were Australian cowboys. He took me seriously.

The assistant manager came in 20 minutes late and in an effort to speed up shift change she "saved" thirty seconds by running my end-of-shift reports herself. Amend that: by running the wrong reports herself. Running the correct reports after those ones printed added about seven more minutes... then she somehow managed to lock up the main till... great job, dumb ass. Thanks for helping.

The paper has an article about gas prices which they concluded with a local woman's idea on how to lower the cost at the pump: "If everybody bought just $10 worth, then there would be more gas available and the price would come down." That's so fucking retarded on so many levels that it's mind-boggling.

Lots of rednecks on their way to the races at Talladega. One young shining star threw a lit cigarette from the curb - which has an ash tray less than a foot from him - towards the gas pumps.

A customer looking for milk checked every door along the cooler wall except for the one on the far left. When asked, I told him the milk was behind "the cooler door all the way to the left". Despite the huge neon sign that says MILK right above this door, he still couldn't find it.

Another location of ours down the road closes at midnight. One of their clerks came in and displayed her idiocy. The customer ahead of her, whom she'd seen me start a ticket for, went out to his truck to get more money. Before I could hit "suspend" she flashed her candy in front of the scanner, thus adding to his ticket instead of hers and making me void the whole thing and start over. She'd grabbed two of the same item from our half-off candy bin and became upset when I rang one item at full price rather than ringing each one separately and manually overriding twice for half-off.

"When you work nights, does it seem like all you do is sleep and work?" - Yeah, pretty much, but isn't that true of any full-time job?

A customer asked for $20 in gas and some tobacco. He felt it necessary to specify that the tobacco would come out of the second twenty dollar bill.

It is my firm belief that if one is incapable of basic communication in any language, one has no business buying a pre-paid cellular card. This kid looked at me blankly during every point in the transaction. "Anything else?" Blank stare. "Twenty dollars, please." Blank stare, eventual fumbling for his wallet. "Thanks, have a good morning." Grunt that would have made a Neanderthal proud.

An intoxicated young man asked if I could guarantee that the Doritos with the new package design he'd picked up would taste the same as before. I told him he could spend a dollar in the name of science. He said the new packaging scared him. I told him to stay away from the Waffle House then - they just redid their menus. Man, I love screwing with the drunks.

A memo from the DM to the manager is on the bulletin board next to the schedule. It reads in part:

"The following people are currently not on direct deposit... I expect either a direct deposit form on these employees by Friday or a complete explanation, written by them, as to why they do not want to go direct deposit... It is a necessary thing for everyone to be on direct deposit as quickly as possible. It will be to their benefit to be on direct deposit, and will be detrimental if they are not on it... this does include police officers and they need to be on direct deposit also."

My reply, in writing, was as follows:

"I find your recent memo regarding direct deposit offensive and insulting. What I do with my paycheck, including how I cash it, is solely at my discretion and how I handle my money is certainly none of your concern. For me there is no benefit to direct deposit as I would still need to go to the bank to withdraw my money; what difference does the extra thirty seconds to deposit the check make? Furthermore, this stinks of Big Brother. I have had the option of direct deposit at most of my jobs but you are the first to demand I take that option. I have had ample time to hand in the direct deposit form which came with my new hire paperwork. In choosing to not hand it in I have already indicated that I see no benefit from being on direct deposit. As for the implied threat of retaliation for those of us who do not comply with your dictates on this matter I ask to be provided by you, in writing, the reasons which supposedly necessitate this arrogant, intrusive, and Orwellian demand.

P.S. - If the cops are on the payroll, as you also state in your memo, please instruct them to patrol the store on a regular and frequent basis, particularly during 3rd shift. If they did something besides bullshit with the waitresses at the Waffle House all night, perhaps the criminal element would be less likely to rob our stores."

(While I never did receive a written reply, the DM and RM both stopped by to speak with me before the week was out. Not only did I remain on paper checks until the day I quit, but I was also promoted to assistant manager a few months later.)