Tweet
Since the middle of February I've been working a second job, two and occasionally three overnight shifts a week at a convenience store up the road. Apparently I suffer from some mental disease that prevents me from remembering why I left this particular field of endeavor, oh-so-many years ago. Don't worry, though - it's all coming back to me.
So far, it's been the usual 'convenience-store' suckage - people who whine and moan because I ask them for ID when they want to buy cigarettes or beer, people who can't seem to get it through their head that alcohol sales stop at one a.m., bored teenagers who have no life aside from hanging around outside a convenience store, lottery loons, people bitching that I don't have their particular brand of cigarettes, people complaining about the cost of gas…. In short, mostly the same sort of shit that any regular on this board has already read about and/or discussed, with some insignificant variations. Not much by way of things I haven't dealt with before.
A few incidents that stand out…
IT'S YOUR FAULT!
This happened my first week. 'Overnight' shift means I don't get off work until 8am, so I get to enjoy the morning rush, yay.
I'll describe this briefly - customer discovers, as she's leaving, that her car isn't where she left it. The immediate assumption is it was stolen - not hard to do, since she'd left it running.
Turns out the car had either been left in reverse instead of park, or had somehow slipped from park into reverse. The car then rolled backwards, narrowly missing two other cars and a gas pump, over the curb, and out into the intersection where it became wedged under the trailer of a semi truck that was waiting to make a left turn.
Good news - nobody was hurt, and damage was minimal to both vehicles.
How does this suck? The customer cast the blame on ME for 'not watching her car for her' and wanted the store to pay for the damages, and for the ticket she got for leaving the vehicle running unattended. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Better check the weather in hell first.
BUT THEY"RE THE SAME!
Pepsi was on sale. Seriously, you couldn't NOT know, because there was a huge stack of product in the middle of the store, and signs EVERYWHERE. Customer breezes by the Pepsi display, grabs a 2-liter of Coca-Cola, and steps up to the register. I scan it and ring it up.
ME: "The total is X.xx."
Him: "That can't be right, it's on sale."
ME: "No, sorry. It's Pepsi that's on sale."
Him: "Coke, Pepsi, same thing."
ME: "No, sorry - they're different products by different companies." (Seriously, how does one live in the United States and NOT know this?)
Him: "THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING THING!"
Me: "Then go grab a Pepsi 2-Liter, and I'll give you the sale price."
Him: "But I don't LIKE Pepsi."
Me: "Well, evidently they're not the same…..are they?"
CHERNOBYL
We sell money orders, but there are some very strict rules about how they're handled. Chief among them is we cannot issue a refund on a money order for ANY reason. It does not matter if it was purchased five hours or five seconds ago. Once the transaction is complete and the thing is printed out, your only recourse if you change your mind is to contact the money-order company directly and file a claim, or to deposit it in your bank account like any other check.
On with the story….
A woman comes in at like 2am to buy a $350 money order. I go through the whole rigamarole - verifying the amount, setting the machine to print, taking her money, inspecting the money order for misprints or errors, reverify the amount, and hand it to her. She leaves with it, and I drop the money in the safe.
End of episode, right? It'd be a pretty lame story if it was, wouldn't it?
4:15am. She's back, wanting a refund. She claims that she doesn't need it after all. Now, there's nothing I can do. The rules are very clear - I'm not allowed to issue a refund on a money order to ANYONE - not even Jesus Christ with a note from Daddy Almighty (my manager's own words). Even if that wasn't the case, the money is not available - I'm required to keep my till under $50 at all times.
Well, this does not sit well with her, and we go throught he usual 'You *WILL* / I *WON'T* routine for a few minutes, in which she tries to intimidate me into calling the manager, which I flat refuse to do over some trivial matter like this. And all the time, she's getting more and more irrational.
Then, she goes from 'annoying' to 'full blown raving psycho nuclear meltdown' mode with an 80-G acceleration. I've seen adult tantrums before, but THIS…. Usually you have to visit a preschool to see something this intense.
I called the cops in on the case when she started throwing stuff around the store. She left in the police car, and her car was parked out front for several days before being towed away. I can only assume she was detained for some reason - but the police never took a statement, nor have I been contacted regarding this incident, so I don't know what was going on.
TOO EXPENSIVE! (or: HOW TO BE A COMPLETE ASSHOLE)
A semi-regular wandered in one night a few weeks ago and starts going up and down the aisles, handling various items - as in, picking them up, examining them, looking at the price, and putting them back down again - but not in the proper place. One might think he wasn't actually doing it deliberately, as he's acting a lot like he's shopping - but then, you don't know THIS guy. Unfortunately, I do.
After about twenty minutes of this, he holds up a can of some pasta-like product - Spaghettios or Ravioli or something, and declares he can buy it cheaper at Walmart.
I just shrug - and this is where it gets difficult.
He stomps up to the counter. "Well, what are you gonna do about it?"
Me: "Do about what?"
Him: "The price of this!" and he waves it in my face.
Me: "Ummmmm…..nothing?"
Him: "I said, I can buy this cheaper at Walmart!"
Me: "So go buy it at Walmart."
Him: "I'm not driving all the way to Walmart, it's too far away!" (Yes, Walmart is some eleven miles distant. The convenience store I work for is kind of in the sticks.)
Me: "Then it appears you have a problem, because I'm not changing the price."
Him: "You know, you got a real bad attitude."
Me: (shrugs)
Him: "I'm gonna report you to your boss!"
Me: "Whatever. In the meantime, please either buy something, or leave. I have work to do."
Him: "Don't get snarky with ME! I'll have your job for this!"
Me: "You couldn't DO my job. It involves dealing with assholes like you."
He slammed the can on the counter and stomped out with a few more choice words tossed in my general direction.
Now, some of you may think I crossed a couple of lines here, but as I indicated before, you don't know this guy. I've had to deal with him on several occasions, and he's always - ALWAYS - a prick. I'm neither a psychiatrist nor psychologist, but this goober strikes me as the sort of person who just goes through life deliberately leaving misery and chaos in his wake - just because he CAN - maybe even going out of his way to do so. He NEVER misses an opportunity to remind you of how 'important' he is, and/or how 'insignificant' you are. I think he gets his jollies by acting 'offended' and then watching as others step and fetch to kiss his ass.
Unfortunately, up until this incident, he'd been a little slow to figure out that I don't play that game. I think he finally got the hint; I haven't seen him since, nor have I heard a single word about the incident.
DRUNK DRIVING
A woman drove up to the gas pumps, got out, proceeded to clean out her car, then she got gas. It wasn't until she came inside to pay that I realized she was very, very drunk. I mean, she REEKED of beer, like she'd just gone swimming in a brewery vat. Well, after she paid for her gas, she started looking around for her keys, then asked me what I'd done with them. I didn't see her bring them in, so I pointed out that perhaps she left them in the car. She left her purse sitting on the counter and stumbled outside to check. Apparently she found them and drove off - leaving her purse behind.
After she left, I called the police to report the DUI. I also told the dispatcher that she'd left her purse here.
An officer showed up at the store about ten minutes later, and while he was there, the girl came back. She parked RIGHT NEXT to the police car and staggered inside to ask about her purse - I don't even think she saw the cop standing there.
Yeah, her day went downhill with a quickness after that.
LIES, DAMNED LIES, AND STATISTICS
A young man, probably mid-20s, came in late and dropped quite a bit of money - I'd say around $50 - on those damned instant scratch-off lottery tickets. Wouldn't just buy one big batch, oh, no - he stood there buying twosies and threesies, scratching them off, and then buying more. So, yeah, I had to stand there and watch this guy as he took $50 and figuratively flushed it down the toilet.
Now, I'll admit that it IS unusual that he didn't win anything. And I mean, NOTHING. Not a single $1 or $2 ticket. No 'free ticket'. NOTHING.
Well, now he's out $50. And he has to blame someone.
Does he blame himself, an adult and (theoretically) informed and rational individual who invested heavily in a game of chance where the overall payout has historically been CONSIDERABLY less than the money paid in? Yeah, right. THAT'LL be the day. Obviously, it's MY fault.
That's right, folks. *I* put a gun to his head and compelled him to play these damned scratch-off tickets, told him WHICH ones to buy, and somehow mystically manipulated the forces of chance to ensure he lost every single one of his fifty dollars.
His logic for this? Well, apparently at some point in time, he took a semester of statistics - and (according to him) statistically speaking, the instant lottery tickets should have paid out SOMETHING at least three times based on a fifty-ticket purchase (his theory, not mine). And the fact that this did not happen was proof positive, you see, that I was tampering with the lottery tickets.
I'm not sure what he thought was going to happen, but he seemed quite eager to 'prove' - with STATISTICS - that I was a crook. I finally told him that if he felt he had such a strong case, he really ought to be talking to the police or the lottery commission.
Incidentally, it's not the first time he's come into the store and dropped a big chunk of money on those damned things. But, every time that he wins anything (and it's never been more than about $20 that I can recall), he just uses the money he wins to buy more tickets, and he'll do this until he's blown every penny. So really, that particular evening's exercise in futility was actually just a more efficient way of emptying his pockets. The end result was exactly the same.
THINGS WE DON'T SELL
I honestly don't know (nor do I want to) the logic by which a rational, allegedly-intelligent human being could possibly conclude that a convenience store is a place one would purchase an air conditioner. I'll admit that the heat has made everyone a little crazy, but I still can't fathom the connection.
And yes, I had to promise the customer that I'd pass along to my manager his suggestion that we should carry them. I lied.
I've also had not one, but TWO customers ask if we sell TIRES. Remember, folks, I work NIGHTS. Because we all know that 3am is the perfect TIME, and a stop 'n rob the perfect PLACE, to shop for tires.
Underwear? I'm sure you have a valid reason to be desperately in need of new underwear in the middle of the night. But I don't wanna know what that reason is. REALLY I don't. Please just accept my answer that we don't sell underwear, and move on.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any more surreal……
Handcuffs. I had somebody actually ask if I sold HANDCUFFS.
TOO EXPENSIVE, PART 2
This is an open letter to the overpriveleged, clueless bitch that came into my store in the early-morning hours of August 7th. You know who you are.
Gas is expensive. That isn't a particularly new bit of information. And you know why that is? It's because there's a massive demand for it, enabling the suppliers to pretty much name their own price. There's a reason the petroleum companies are making record profits. So please don't bitch at me about the price of gas. I don't control it, and berating me about it, AT LENGTH, changes nothing.
Of course, I'm compelled to point out that if your concerns over the cost of gasoline were genuine, you probably shouldn't have bought that gigantic shiny new $60,000 SUV you drove in here. So don't expect me to shed tears because it costs almost $100 to fill the tank of that behemoth. Clearly you can afford it - particularly since you've selected the 'Super Premium' blend which costs $0.20 on the gallon more than regular.
It's fine with me, really, if you want to take your business somewhere else. In your efforts to hurt me, you'll end up hurting yourself MORE. You've already demonstrated you don't like OUR prices, and we're one of the less-expensive places in the area. I promise, we won't notice your absence, other than the fact I'll be slightly happier overall for not having to deal with with a stuck-up, spoiled rag like yourself. So believe me when I say I'm behind you like one hundred percent on this 'go somewhere else' plan of yours. In fact, I rather INSIST on it.
So far, it's been the usual 'convenience-store' suckage - people who whine and moan because I ask them for ID when they want to buy cigarettes or beer, people who can't seem to get it through their head that alcohol sales stop at one a.m., bored teenagers who have no life aside from hanging around outside a convenience store, lottery loons, people bitching that I don't have their particular brand of cigarettes, people complaining about the cost of gas…. In short, mostly the same sort of shit that any regular on this board has already read about and/or discussed, with some insignificant variations. Not much by way of things I haven't dealt with before.
A few incidents that stand out…
IT'S YOUR FAULT!
This happened my first week. 'Overnight' shift means I don't get off work until 8am, so I get to enjoy the morning rush, yay.
I'll describe this briefly - customer discovers, as she's leaving, that her car isn't where she left it. The immediate assumption is it was stolen - not hard to do, since she'd left it running.
Turns out the car had either been left in reverse instead of park, or had somehow slipped from park into reverse. The car then rolled backwards, narrowly missing two other cars and a gas pump, over the curb, and out into the intersection where it became wedged under the trailer of a semi truck that was waiting to make a left turn.
Good news - nobody was hurt, and damage was minimal to both vehicles.
How does this suck? The customer cast the blame on ME for 'not watching her car for her' and wanted the store to pay for the damages, and for the ticket she got for leaving the vehicle running unattended. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Better check the weather in hell first.
BUT THEY"RE THE SAME!
Pepsi was on sale. Seriously, you couldn't NOT know, because there was a huge stack of product in the middle of the store, and signs EVERYWHERE. Customer breezes by the Pepsi display, grabs a 2-liter of Coca-Cola, and steps up to the register. I scan it and ring it up.
ME: "The total is X.xx."
Him: "That can't be right, it's on sale."
ME: "No, sorry. It's Pepsi that's on sale."
Him: "Coke, Pepsi, same thing."
ME: "No, sorry - they're different products by different companies." (Seriously, how does one live in the United States and NOT know this?)
Him: "THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING THING!"
Me: "Then go grab a Pepsi 2-Liter, and I'll give you the sale price."
Him: "But I don't LIKE Pepsi."
Me: "Well, evidently they're not the same…..are they?"
CHERNOBYL
We sell money orders, but there are some very strict rules about how they're handled. Chief among them is we cannot issue a refund on a money order for ANY reason. It does not matter if it was purchased five hours or five seconds ago. Once the transaction is complete and the thing is printed out, your only recourse if you change your mind is to contact the money-order company directly and file a claim, or to deposit it in your bank account like any other check.
On with the story….
A woman comes in at like 2am to buy a $350 money order. I go through the whole rigamarole - verifying the amount, setting the machine to print, taking her money, inspecting the money order for misprints or errors, reverify the amount, and hand it to her. She leaves with it, and I drop the money in the safe.
End of episode, right? It'd be a pretty lame story if it was, wouldn't it?
4:15am. She's back, wanting a refund. She claims that she doesn't need it after all. Now, there's nothing I can do. The rules are very clear - I'm not allowed to issue a refund on a money order to ANYONE - not even Jesus Christ with a note from Daddy Almighty (my manager's own words). Even if that wasn't the case, the money is not available - I'm required to keep my till under $50 at all times.
Well, this does not sit well with her, and we go throught he usual 'You *WILL* / I *WON'T* routine for a few minutes, in which she tries to intimidate me into calling the manager, which I flat refuse to do over some trivial matter like this. And all the time, she's getting more and more irrational.
Then, she goes from 'annoying' to 'full blown raving psycho nuclear meltdown' mode with an 80-G acceleration. I've seen adult tantrums before, but THIS…. Usually you have to visit a preschool to see something this intense.
I called the cops in on the case when she started throwing stuff around the store. She left in the police car, and her car was parked out front for several days before being towed away. I can only assume she was detained for some reason - but the police never took a statement, nor have I been contacted regarding this incident, so I don't know what was going on.
TOO EXPENSIVE! (or: HOW TO BE A COMPLETE ASSHOLE)
A semi-regular wandered in one night a few weeks ago and starts going up and down the aisles, handling various items - as in, picking them up, examining them, looking at the price, and putting them back down again - but not in the proper place. One might think he wasn't actually doing it deliberately, as he's acting a lot like he's shopping - but then, you don't know THIS guy. Unfortunately, I do.
After about twenty minutes of this, he holds up a can of some pasta-like product - Spaghettios or Ravioli or something, and declares he can buy it cheaper at Walmart.
I just shrug - and this is where it gets difficult.
He stomps up to the counter. "Well, what are you gonna do about it?"
Me: "Do about what?"
Him: "The price of this!" and he waves it in my face.
Me: "Ummmmm…..nothing?"
Him: "I said, I can buy this cheaper at Walmart!"
Me: "So go buy it at Walmart."
Him: "I'm not driving all the way to Walmart, it's too far away!" (Yes, Walmart is some eleven miles distant. The convenience store I work for is kind of in the sticks.)
Me: "Then it appears you have a problem, because I'm not changing the price."
Him: "You know, you got a real bad attitude."
Me: (shrugs)
Him: "I'm gonna report you to your boss!"
Me: "Whatever. In the meantime, please either buy something, or leave. I have work to do."
Him: "Don't get snarky with ME! I'll have your job for this!"
Me: "You couldn't DO my job. It involves dealing with assholes like you."
He slammed the can on the counter and stomped out with a few more choice words tossed in my general direction.
Now, some of you may think I crossed a couple of lines here, but as I indicated before, you don't know this guy. I've had to deal with him on several occasions, and he's always - ALWAYS - a prick. I'm neither a psychiatrist nor psychologist, but this goober strikes me as the sort of person who just goes through life deliberately leaving misery and chaos in his wake - just because he CAN - maybe even going out of his way to do so. He NEVER misses an opportunity to remind you of how 'important' he is, and/or how 'insignificant' you are. I think he gets his jollies by acting 'offended' and then watching as others step and fetch to kiss his ass.
Unfortunately, up until this incident, he'd been a little slow to figure out that I don't play that game. I think he finally got the hint; I haven't seen him since, nor have I heard a single word about the incident.
DRUNK DRIVING
A woman drove up to the gas pumps, got out, proceeded to clean out her car, then she got gas. It wasn't until she came inside to pay that I realized she was very, very drunk. I mean, she REEKED of beer, like she'd just gone swimming in a brewery vat. Well, after she paid for her gas, she started looking around for her keys, then asked me what I'd done with them. I didn't see her bring them in, so I pointed out that perhaps she left them in the car. She left her purse sitting on the counter and stumbled outside to check. Apparently she found them and drove off - leaving her purse behind.
After she left, I called the police to report the DUI. I also told the dispatcher that she'd left her purse here.
An officer showed up at the store about ten minutes later, and while he was there, the girl came back. She parked RIGHT NEXT to the police car and staggered inside to ask about her purse - I don't even think she saw the cop standing there.
Yeah, her day went downhill with a quickness after that.
LIES, DAMNED LIES, AND STATISTICS
A young man, probably mid-20s, came in late and dropped quite a bit of money - I'd say around $50 - on those damned instant scratch-off lottery tickets. Wouldn't just buy one big batch, oh, no - he stood there buying twosies and threesies, scratching them off, and then buying more. So, yeah, I had to stand there and watch this guy as he took $50 and figuratively flushed it down the toilet.
Now, I'll admit that it IS unusual that he didn't win anything. And I mean, NOTHING. Not a single $1 or $2 ticket. No 'free ticket'. NOTHING.
Well, now he's out $50. And he has to blame someone.
Does he blame himself, an adult and (theoretically) informed and rational individual who invested heavily in a game of chance where the overall payout has historically been CONSIDERABLY less than the money paid in? Yeah, right. THAT'LL be the day. Obviously, it's MY fault.
That's right, folks. *I* put a gun to his head and compelled him to play these damned scratch-off tickets, told him WHICH ones to buy, and somehow mystically manipulated the forces of chance to ensure he lost every single one of his fifty dollars.
His logic for this? Well, apparently at some point in time, he took a semester of statistics - and (according to him) statistically speaking, the instant lottery tickets should have paid out SOMETHING at least three times based on a fifty-ticket purchase (his theory, not mine). And the fact that this did not happen was proof positive, you see, that I was tampering with the lottery tickets.
I'm not sure what he thought was going to happen, but he seemed quite eager to 'prove' - with STATISTICS - that I was a crook. I finally told him that if he felt he had such a strong case, he really ought to be talking to the police or the lottery commission.
Incidentally, it's not the first time he's come into the store and dropped a big chunk of money on those damned things. But, every time that he wins anything (and it's never been more than about $20 that I can recall), he just uses the money he wins to buy more tickets, and he'll do this until he's blown every penny. So really, that particular evening's exercise in futility was actually just a more efficient way of emptying his pockets. The end result was exactly the same.
THINGS WE DON'T SELL
I honestly don't know (nor do I want to) the logic by which a rational, allegedly-intelligent human being could possibly conclude that a convenience store is a place one would purchase an air conditioner. I'll admit that the heat has made everyone a little crazy, but I still can't fathom the connection.
And yes, I had to promise the customer that I'd pass along to my manager his suggestion that we should carry them. I lied.
I've also had not one, but TWO customers ask if we sell TIRES. Remember, folks, I work NIGHTS. Because we all know that 3am is the perfect TIME, and a stop 'n rob the perfect PLACE, to shop for tires.
Underwear? I'm sure you have a valid reason to be desperately in need of new underwear in the middle of the night. But I don't wanna know what that reason is. REALLY I don't. Please just accept my answer that we don't sell underwear, and move on.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any more surreal……
Handcuffs. I had somebody actually ask if I sold HANDCUFFS.
TOO EXPENSIVE, PART 2
This is an open letter to the overpriveleged, clueless bitch that came into my store in the early-morning hours of August 7th. You know who you are.
Gas is expensive. That isn't a particularly new bit of information. And you know why that is? It's because there's a massive demand for it, enabling the suppliers to pretty much name their own price. There's a reason the petroleum companies are making record profits. So please don't bitch at me about the price of gas. I don't control it, and berating me about it, AT LENGTH, changes nothing.
Of course, I'm compelled to point out that if your concerns over the cost of gasoline were genuine, you probably shouldn't have bought that gigantic shiny new $60,000 SUV you drove in here. So don't expect me to shed tears because it costs almost $100 to fill the tank of that behemoth. Clearly you can afford it - particularly since you've selected the 'Super Premium' blend which costs $0.20 on the gallon more than regular.
It's fine with me, really, if you want to take your business somewhere else. In your efforts to hurt me, you'll end up hurting yourself MORE. You've already demonstrated you don't like OUR prices, and we're one of the less-expensive places in the area. I promise, we won't notice your absence, other than the fact I'll be slightly happier overall for not having to deal with with a stuck-up, spoiled rag like yourself. So believe me when I say I'm behind you like one hundred percent on this 'go somewhere else' plan of yours. In fact, I rather INSIST on it.
, but I composed myself and said "I'm sorry, we only sell plain old playing cards."
Comment