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It's been a while since I've posted on here. Jobs have come and gone, but one thing is always the same.
I will admit that I am not the most patient person on the earth, and if you give me crap I'll give it right back. Most of the time my job is pleasant. I work graves at a store in desperate need of a remodel, so I clean most of the night. It is also the only store in the middle of a fifty or so mile stretch, and the only place in this town that's open after 10pm. Forgive the coarseness and the length. I am actually a nice and friendly guy and these blurbs only equal about 1% of the business I do and only when I am at my wits end.
I didn't ask you to stop here
I won't go into much detail, but near the end of his visit I had had enough.
Me: Sir, you have complained about nearly everything in this store from the flies outside to the price of milk. You just left [city removed] and I know for a fact you passed two truck stops, a 24 hour convenience store, and just eight miles that way is a Loves. I did not ask you to stop here and I certainly did not ask you to list your issues with the store like it's a personal affront. Now please either buy something and shut up or find another place to do business, I'm tired of hearing about it and far too busy to listen.
Him: Jesus Christ, I'm sorry(sarcasm). Is the coffee fresh?
Me: Yes, and you can have it on the house. If you have any complaints, I'll give you the store's number and you can call my manager in the morning.
Him: That won't be necessary. Coffee more than makes up for your smart mouth.
Me:
Okay, so maybe I overstepped. That's fine. He'd probably complain about the cost of the coffee. Speaking of fresh...
Yes it's fresh. God forbid something be 31 minutes old.
I get this too much to actually recant specific scenarios. Food goes longer than coffee. I keep coffee fresh because I drink it too, and I sell a BOATLOAD of it each night. But some people in this town... I wonder if they even know what a microwave dinner is how often they're up there. Twice or three times a night I'll see the same handful of people. Always getting coke, always buying 20 bucks worth of burritos and cordogs. Almost always wanting it for free if it even looks old. It's not old, it's just disgusting, greasy, gas station food at 3am. And yes, you will have to pay.
Maybe it's the indian and not the arrow?
Most people can figure out a gas pump. Drunk locals and travelers can, no problem. Bring me money, I turn on pump. All I ask is you tell me the number you're on. But... as most counter jockeys know, there are a few 'special' cases.
OL: Old lady
OM: Old man
Me:
OL: I need some diesel out there on the camper.
Me: Okay, ma'am. That pump isn't actually working. The ones on either side are, if you'd like to move your vehicle.
OL: (It's a stage production trying to get off the ground at this point. She disappears, the RV moves TWICE before I see her again)
Me: Alrighty, how much would you like to put on it?
OL: I want to fill it up.
Me: Okay, if you'd like to leave your card with me, or put some cash down on it, I can get it started.
OL: I'm not giving you my card, that's how you get "the identity theft" and I'm not carrying any cash
(Okay, that was my contribution. She said it like the title of a newspaper article or a summer blockbuster)
Me: That's fine, all I ask is you stay inside. It's just preventative, keep honest people honest and all that good stuff.
She stays inside long enough for me to start with the next customer. Now, on our diesel pumps, you have to pull the nozzle off the cradle to start. She disappears and I'm looking out for him to pull it off so I can approve it. They're old, I figure I can catch up or at the very least get their license plate if they drive off. But it never beeps. This is where her husband comes in.
OM: You ever turn on the damn pump?
Me: Sir, you haven't even picked up the handle from the cradle yet. I'd have an alarm going off if you did.
He storms out, moves the RV AGAIN to the last pump, picks up the handle, I approve it and go about my business. The lady comes back in and meanders around. After about ten minutes she walks up and asks if he's done pumping yet, I say no and check the pump to see what the tally's up to. $0.00
Me: It doesn't show he's pumped anything.
OL: Jesus wept. What are you doing here? Do you even know what you're doing?
Me: Ma'am, it's not me. He picked up the handle and I approved it. I can't see him from here, but.... (I said it, and I'm glad she didn't hear me as she stormed out) I can only assume he's been out there staring at it for fifteen minutes.
The alarm goes off that he's hung it up. At this point, I'm as confused and irritated as they are pissed off. My smartass explanation is the only one I could come up with. That pump is the best one there, and we had gotten a diesel delivery that day.
OM: I guess we need to preset the piece of shit to get any gas. Go ahead and run 50 on credit.
Me: Yes sir.
Ran his ticket, sent him on his merry. Five minutes later they come back.
OM: We'll just head up the goddamn road. Refund our money.
Me: Yes sir, sorry about that. I don't know what's going on with it.
OM: Those pumps are in horrible condition.
Me: Yes sir, I know.
OM: Then do something about it.
Me: *That's it, that's my limit with these two* Not my department. Here's your receipt, have a nice day. Good luck down the road.
OL: This doesn't show our money refunded.
Me: You didn't pump anything, so it's zero'd out. It's just how our system's set up.
OM: But it shows zero dollars. I have another ticket for 50.
Me: Because you PUMPED zero dollars. That's what that ticket shows. If you had pumped fifty cents, it would've shown fifty cents of a 50 dollar prepay. That one shows zero dollars of a 50 dollar prepay. It's simple enough if you just look at it for two seconds.
OL: That money better be in our account or you'll hear about it.
Me: Oh, I'm sure I will. Have a WONDERFUL day and the safest of trips. Thank you for your business.
Just as an after-the-fact aside, all my diesel nozzles were on the ground when I went out after they left. I still can't figure out what the hell they were doing out there.
And I want to win the powerball
This last one is probably my worst one. I was already in a bad mood from having to deal with other stuff within the store. (Namely doing the previous shift's work on top of my own) I was detailing the bathrooms and didn't hear this cat come in since the doorbell is so quiet.
SC: Hey fucker, you wanna come out here and help me or what?
Me: God, give me the strength. (He didn't.
) What's up?
SC: I want a fuckin' curndug, mustard, and this'ere coke.
Me: And I want to win the powerball, but it ain't gonna happen for me and neither is your corndog unless I hear a 'fuckin' please. You got me?
SC: 
You give me that motherfucker right now!
Me: *snap* First of all, you come in my store at 2am and instead of announcing yourself like a human being, you shout like a pissed monkey. Second, change your fuckin attitude right the fuck now or you and me are gonna share a little more than just harsh words. You don't know me and you don't know the night I've had up til now. So how about some P's and Q's before we find out who the bigger monkey in the zoo is?
SC:
Hol-ee shit! I'm sorry, boss. It's just late, I've been driving since this morning, I'm tired...
Me: Not a good excuse for that behavior. I won't apologize for what I said because I meant every word of it. Now that we've got that out of the way, I'll get you your corndog and you can have it and the soda on the house for having to wait while I worked on the restroom. I don't know how long you were standing there, and I don't care. Just take it and have a nice night.
SC: Thank you, sir. You do the same.
This is not an all the time, every night thing. I do not like blowing up at people because it takes too much time away from other things, so I try to have patience and understanding with people. Apparently it's hard traveling and people are a little ragged by the time they get to my store and they think they can take it out on me. Well, I work my ass off and I'm a little ragged too. Don't attack me if you don't want to get hit back harder. Providing customer service isn't my only job at that store. I have six hours to do 12 hours worth of work, and when you come in and hang out and linger and give me shit, you are keeping me from my other duties. People have asked why I step outside and smoke while they shop around and use the bathroom, and I tell them all the same thing "I smoke because I care about you." They laugh and you can see the question forming before they ask it.
Them: What's that mean?
Me: Think of it this way, you know the big red button in movies that launches the nukes to destroy the world?
Them: Yeah.
Me: Imagine I'm the button and you all are a bunch of fingers bumping against it. Ten, fifteen minutes of bumping; what do you think might happen on accident?
Them: Gets pushed all the way?
Me: That's why I step outside and smoke.
Again, sorry for the length and language, thanks for reading.
I will admit that I am not the most patient person on the earth, and if you give me crap I'll give it right back. Most of the time my job is pleasant. I work graves at a store in desperate need of a remodel, so I clean most of the night. It is also the only store in the middle of a fifty or so mile stretch, and the only place in this town that's open after 10pm. Forgive the coarseness and the length. I am actually a nice and friendly guy and these blurbs only equal about 1% of the business I do and only when I am at my wits end.
I didn't ask you to stop here
I won't go into much detail, but near the end of his visit I had had enough.
Me: Sir, you have complained about nearly everything in this store from the flies outside to the price of milk. You just left [city removed] and I know for a fact you passed two truck stops, a 24 hour convenience store, and just eight miles that way is a Loves. I did not ask you to stop here and I certainly did not ask you to list your issues with the store like it's a personal affront. Now please either buy something and shut up or find another place to do business, I'm tired of hearing about it and far too busy to listen.
Him: Jesus Christ, I'm sorry(sarcasm). Is the coffee fresh?
Me: Yes, and you can have it on the house. If you have any complaints, I'll give you the store's number and you can call my manager in the morning.
Him: That won't be necessary. Coffee more than makes up for your smart mouth.
Me:
Okay, so maybe I overstepped. That's fine. He'd probably complain about the cost of the coffee. Speaking of fresh...
Yes it's fresh. God forbid something be 31 minutes old.
I get this too much to actually recant specific scenarios. Food goes longer than coffee. I keep coffee fresh because I drink it too, and I sell a BOATLOAD of it each night. But some people in this town... I wonder if they even know what a microwave dinner is how often they're up there. Twice or three times a night I'll see the same handful of people. Always getting coke, always buying 20 bucks worth of burritos and cordogs. Almost always wanting it for free if it even looks old. It's not old, it's just disgusting, greasy, gas station food at 3am. And yes, you will have to pay.
Maybe it's the indian and not the arrow?
Most people can figure out a gas pump. Drunk locals and travelers can, no problem. Bring me money, I turn on pump. All I ask is you tell me the number you're on. But... as most counter jockeys know, there are a few 'special' cases.
OL: Old lady
OM: Old man
Me:
OL: I need some diesel out there on the camper.
Me: Okay, ma'am. That pump isn't actually working. The ones on either side are, if you'd like to move your vehicle.
OL: (It's a stage production trying to get off the ground at this point. She disappears, the RV moves TWICE before I see her again)
Me: Alrighty, how much would you like to put on it?
OL: I want to fill it up.
Me: Okay, if you'd like to leave your card with me, or put some cash down on it, I can get it started.
OL: I'm not giving you my card, that's how you get "the identity theft" and I'm not carrying any cash
(Okay, that was my contribution. She said it like the title of a newspaper article or a summer blockbuster)
Me: That's fine, all I ask is you stay inside. It's just preventative, keep honest people honest and all that good stuff.
She stays inside long enough for me to start with the next customer. Now, on our diesel pumps, you have to pull the nozzle off the cradle to start. She disappears and I'm looking out for him to pull it off so I can approve it. They're old, I figure I can catch up or at the very least get their license plate if they drive off. But it never beeps. This is where her husband comes in.
OM: You ever turn on the damn pump?
Me: Sir, you haven't even picked up the handle from the cradle yet. I'd have an alarm going off if you did.
He storms out, moves the RV AGAIN to the last pump, picks up the handle, I approve it and go about my business. The lady comes back in and meanders around. After about ten minutes she walks up and asks if he's done pumping yet, I say no and check the pump to see what the tally's up to. $0.00
Me: It doesn't show he's pumped anything.
OL: Jesus wept. What are you doing here? Do you even know what you're doing?
Me: Ma'am, it's not me. He picked up the handle and I approved it. I can't see him from here, but.... (I said it, and I'm glad she didn't hear me as she stormed out) I can only assume he's been out there staring at it for fifteen minutes.
The alarm goes off that he's hung it up. At this point, I'm as confused and irritated as they are pissed off. My smartass explanation is the only one I could come up with. That pump is the best one there, and we had gotten a diesel delivery that day.
OM: I guess we need to preset the piece of shit to get any gas. Go ahead and run 50 on credit.
Me: Yes sir.
Ran his ticket, sent him on his merry. Five minutes later they come back.
OM: We'll just head up the goddamn road. Refund our money.
Me: Yes sir, sorry about that. I don't know what's going on with it.
OM: Those pumps are in horrible condition.
Me: Yes sir, I know.
OM: Then do something about it.
Me: *That's it, that's my limit with these two* Not my department. Here's your receipt, have a nice day. Good luck down the road.
OL: This doesn't show our money refunded.
Me: You didn't pump anything, so it's zero'd out. It's just how our system's set up.
OM: But it shows zero dollars. I have another ticket for 50.
Me: Because you PUMPED zero dollars. That's what that ticket shows. If you had pumped fifty cents, it would've shown fifty cents of a 50 dollar prepay. That one shows zero dollars of a 50 dollar prepay. It's simple enough if you just look at it for two seconds.
OL: That money better be in our account or you'll hear about it.
Me: Oh, I'm sure I will. Have a WONDERFUL day and the safest of trips. Thank you for your business.
Just as an after-the-fact aside, all my diesel nozzles were on the ground when I went out after they left. I still can't figure out what the hell they were doing out there.
And I want to win the powerball
This last one is probably my worst one. I was already in a bad mood from having to deal with other stuff within the store. (Namely doing the previous shift's work on top of my own) I was detailing the bathrooms and didn't hear this cat come in since the doorbell is so quiet.
SC: Hey fucker, you wanna come out here and help me or what?
Me: God, give me the strength. (He didn't.
) What's up?SC: I want a fuckin' curndug, mustard, and this'ere coke.
Me: And I want to win the powerball, but it ain't gonna happen for me and neither is your corndog unless I hear a 'fuckin' please. You got me?
SC:
You give me that motherfucker right now!Me: *snap* First of all, you come in my store at 2am and instead of announcing yourself like a human being, you shout like a pissed monkey. Second, change your fuckin attitude right the fuck now or you and me are gonna share a little more than just harsh words. You don't know me and you don't know the night I've had up til now. So how about some P's and Q's before we find out who the bigger monkey in the zoo is?
SC:
Hol-ee shit! I'm sorry, boss. It's just late, I've been driving since this morning, I'm tired...Me: Not a good excuse for that behavior. I won't apologize for what I said because I meant every word of it. Now that we've got that out of the way, I'll get you your corndog and you can have it and the soda on the house for having to wait while I worked on the restroom. I don't know how long you were standing there, and I don't care. Just take it and have a nice night.
SC: Thank you, sir. You do the same.
This is not an all the time, every night thing. I do not like blowing up at people because it takes too much time away from other things, so I try to have patience and understanding with people. Apparently it's hard traveling and people are a little ragged by the time they get to my store and they think they can take it out on me. Well, I work my ass off and I'm a little ragged too. Don't attack me if you don't want to get hit back harder. Providing customer service isn't my only job at that store. I have six hours to do 12 hours worth of work, and when you come in and hang out and linger and give me shit, you are keeping me from my other duties. People have asked why I step outside and smoke while they shop around and use the bathroom, and I tell them all the same thing "I smoke because I care about you." They laugh and you can see the question forming before they ask it.
Them: What's that mean?
Me: Think of it this way, you know the big red button in movies that launches the nukes to destroy the world?
Them: Yeah.
Me: Imagine I'm the button and you all are a bunch of fingers bumping against it. Ten, fifteen minutes of bumping; what do you think might happen on accident?
Them: Gets pushed all the way?
Me: That's why I step outside and smoke.
Again, sorry for the length and language, thanks for reading.
Wish I could find a way to pinch this for my own use! 
before pursuing any thoughts in that direction.
I seem to carry a spiritual sledgehammer with me and scare people. 
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