A rather rotund customer waddled to the register....
SC: "Your fuel dispenser just put Super in my vehicle. How did that happen?"
MGR: "I am sorry that happened. Can you tell me what happened so I can try to understand?"
"SC: "YEAH--See that Toyota out there on pump 6....the grey one. OK--so I picked up the nozzle...pushed the button and instead of regular, super went in my tank."
ME: "OK...how that happen?
SC: "JESUS H. CHRIST!! Are you some sort of idiot?? I just told you! I picked up the nozzle, pushed the button and got f-ing super fuel."
ME: "Wow, that's odd...let me try to understand....you picked up the nozzle and you chose the grade and you dispensed the fuel....and now there is a problem? Can you give me more information about this...."
"SC: WTF!! Are you a special kind of stupid? I told you what happened...how it happened...and now the engine in my car is going to burn up because I put the wrong grade of fuel in the tank. I swear, if my $40,000 Toyota burns the engine because of the 4 gallons of super fuel I put in MY tank--I am hold you responsible!"
ME:"Sir, why don't we go outside and you can show me exactly what happened."
As we walk to his car, the customer continued to yell, name call, and attempt to intimidate. Once at the dispenser, the customer demonstrated how he picked up the nozzle and dragged it across the face of my dispenser and 'chose' regular fuel...(which was actually Super). I listened and watched....and I was still struggling to understand how his error was my fault.
ME: "OK Sir, I can see how you MAY have made the error....here is what I am willing to do..."
SC:"No this is what you are GOING to do..." and in his anger, he draws back his hand in a threatening manner. I match his movement by taking a large step back from him. Dude proceeds to yell MORE, threaten me by calling the Division of Weights and Measures" to complain...and then the ultimate threat...I will call my mother and brother....
....ah the real problem comes out---Mommy didn't put the right thermos or fruit snacks in his TMNT lunch box. SO, one my time--I say, "Let me try to understand...." as the last word left his lips he drew his hand back one more time. I looked him scare in the eye...and said "I don't get paid enough to be called names and yelled at by some one like you...SHOO, move along."
SC: "Your fuel dispenser just put Super in my vehicle. How did that happen?"
MGR: "I am sorry that happened. Can you tell me what happened so I can try to understand?"
"SC: "YEAH--See that Toyota out there on pump 6....the grey one. OK--so I picked up the nozzle...pushed the button and instead of regular, super went in my tank."
ME: "OK...how that happen?
SC: "JESUS H. CHRIST!! Are you some sort of idiot?? I just told you! I picked up the nozzle, pushed the button and got f-ing super fuel."
ME: "Wow, that's odd...let me try to understand....you picked up the nozzle and you chose the grade and you dispensed the fuel....and now there is a problem? Can you give me more information about this...."
"SC: WTF!! Are you a special kind of stupid? I told you what happened...how it happened...and now the engine in my car is going to burn up because I put the wrong grade of fuel in the tank. I swear, if my $40,000 Toyota burns the engine because of the 4 gallons of super fuel I put in MY tank--I am hold you responsible!"
ME:"Sir, why don't we go outside and you can show me exactly what happened."
As we walk to his car, the customer continued to yell, name call, and attempt to intimidate. Once at the dispenser, the customer demonstrated how he picked up the nozzle and dragged it across the face of my dispenser and 'chose' regular fuel...(which was actually Super). I listened and watched....and I was still struggling to understand how his error was my fault.
ME: "OK Sir, I can see how you MAY have made the error....here is what I am willing to do..."
SC:"No this is what you are GOING to do..." and in his anger, he draws back his hand in a threatening manner. I match his movement by taking a large step back from him. Dude proceeds to yell MORE, threaten me by calling the Division of Weights and Measures" to complain...and then the ultimate threat...I will call my mother and brother....
....ah the real problem comes out---Mommy didn't put the right thermos or fruit snacks in his TMNT lunch box. SO, one my time--I say, "Let me try to understand...." as the last word left his lips he drew his hand back one more time. I looked him scare in the eye...and said "I don't get paid enough to be called names and yelled at by some one like you...SHOO, move along."
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