An old gas station story tale.
I was an 18-19 year old girl working at a small gas station, alone. It was getting close to closing time.
Up pulls this older Lincoln and out comes a man weebling and wobbling. Oh, a drunk trying to get gas. Or, just parking by a pump and coming inside like a select few tards would do.
He wobbles in, and says, "Dontchas gots a hanger I can borrow? Ah locked mah keys in mah Lincoln!"
I looked under the counter a bit (pretended to), and replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't know if we do or not. If we do, it's gone."
That's when the booze he wreeked of starting turning the wheels in his head the wrong way. "Well, what am ah supposed to do?! That's my LINCOLN out there! Ah can't just leave it here!"
Since I figured I had nothing to lose, I said "Are you sure you should even be driving that fancy of a car after drinking a bit, there?"
(he was a regular PITA customer, so I figured the worst he could do was tell my boss he came in drunk and I was mean to him. Boo hoo.)
It wasn't a fancy car, by the way, either. It was an older Lincoln, nothing anyone would dash to steal. Anyone around these parts with a Lincoln or a Cadillac or whatever, they are usually older than dirt and not in the best of shape as is. But, the white trash people think it makes them look and seem important, eh.
Since we were a small gas station with a clientel of regular trash- I mean customers, I figured it wasn't worth getting in trouble for having him towed or anything, so I just left a note that his car was there, and told him, hoping he could still understand me, that he could leave his car until the morning, but he'd have to get someone to help him move it before it got to be the morning rush the next day.
I was an 18-19 year old girl working at a small gas station, alone. It was getting close to closing time.
Up pulls this older Lincoln and out comes a man weebling and wobbling. Oh, a drunk trying to get gas. Or, just parking by a pump and coming inside like a select few tards would do.
He wobbles in, and says, "Dontchas gots a hanger I can borrow? Ah locked mah keys in mah Lincoln!"
I looked under the counter a bit (pretended to), and replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't know if we do or not. If we do, it's gone."
That's when the booze he wreeked of starting turning the wheels in his head the wrong way. "Well, what am ah supposed to do?! That's my LINCOLN out there! Ah can't just leave it here!"
Since I figured I had nothing to lose, I said "Are you sure you should even be driving that fancy of a car after drinking a bit, there?"
(he was a regular PITA customer, so I figured the worst he could do was tell my boss he came in drunk and I was mean to him. Boo hoo.)
It wasn't a fancy car, by the way, either. It was an older Lincoln, nothing anyone would dash to steal. Anyone around these parts with a Lincoln or a Cadillac or whatever, they are usually older than dirt and not in the best of shape as is. But, the white trash people think it makes them look and seem important, eh.
Since we were a small gas station with a clientel of regular trash- I mean customers, I figured it wasn't worth getting in trouble for having him towed or anything, so I just left a note that his car was there, and told him, hoping he could still understand me, that he could leave his car until the morning, but he'd have to get someone to help him move it before it got to be the morning rush the next day.
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