Good Times at the Gas Station

The Melange

2008-07-24T19:45:00.000-07:00

I've, over the past two months, developed atrocious sleep problems, so I have developed a sleep concoction, "The Melange", which is a perfect method of getting to sleep.

What you need:

Vodka, two shots of
Warm water, two glasses of
Tylenol PM, two pills of
Cigarette, one

Chase one of the Tylenol PM pills with a shot of vodka, and further chase it with half the glass of warm water.

Wait a moment.

Repeat. Finish the glass of water.

Smoke the cigarette.

Drink the last glass of water.

Do a headstand.

Bam, The Melange. It knocks me the hell out. I get the feeling I'm going to die soon.

Tired, bored, and burnt

2008-06-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

With the school being out for the summer, I'm just bored as fuck with my job. The college kids used to put a filler between the sordid, drug addicted lives of the other 1%, but the other 1% has now taken over. Everybody annoys me. EVERYBODY. I don't have the funny drunks to keep me entertained anymore.

So the blog is suffering a little. Obviously cause I haven't posted in forever. And I really got nothing. So, for the summer, I'll be posting at random. Come August, things will be firing up again.

Hardcore.
Tom

Deappetizer.

2008-05-18T23:46:00.001-07:00

I was talking to some girl at my cash register and from across the store, this woman yells "Ya'll's slushie machine is broke!" and throws her arms up in the air while her fat, disgusting stomach flopped out. Before leaving to go try to help the lump, I turned and said,

"That's what we call the deappetizer."

Don't reinforce the behavior.

2008-05-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

Just before I left today, this guy comes in. I've never really taken to him because he's never really talkative and always gives me weird looks. Today, he decided to get pissy.

Me: Here you go. (Handing him random change)
Guy: I don't want a dollar coin, I want a bill.
Me: That's fine, lemme get some more singles.

It took me all of four seconds.

Me: There you go.
Guy: You didn't give me the two cents.
Me: Yes I did.
Guy: No you didn't.

Chicks and dudes, I totally gave him two cents.

Me: This isn't worth arguing about.

I caved the two cents. Fuck it.

Guy: You don't have to be so rude.

And he stood there and looked at me, waiting for a response that never actually came. See, this guy is obviously picking a fight with a clerk at 5:55am. There's no denying it. So like a child throwing a tantrum, I didn't reinforce the behavior. I ignored him.

He stands there and looks at me. So I just look back at him. I hold the expression for about five seconds and:

Me: Morning miss, anything else?

Helped the next customer. And he leaves.

Did it make me mad? Kinda. I mean, he's a fucking garbage man and he's giving me shit? I could have nailed him to the wall. "Boy, never seen a condescending garbage man before," but that would have just escalated the conflict.

Hey, it's like I've said before; if you're a dick, you have no business in my bubble.

The things we say.

2008-05-12T19:55:00.001-07:00

I've payed close attention to the things people say to me in passing. I've found that rarely, given the context, do these things make any sense.

Me: That it for you?
Guy: Sure.
Me: Sweet, $4.34.
Guy: Cheese.

And with that, he hands me the cash, takes his change, and leaves.

Cheese? Why?

Nevermind.

Freedom Subs?

2008-05-12T19:51:00.000-07:00

This kid that I sort of know-ish was mumbling to himself as grabbed a sandwich out of the display while I was putting more in. Upon closer listening, he had said, "These are the freedom subs." I grilled him on what he was talking about but he just kind of giggled at me.

Yeah. I guess they are the freedom subs.

My life is going to get really boring by the beginning of next week when that school is out for summer.

Don't ask.

2008-05-12T19:50:00.000-07:00

I went to the back office to check my schedule, and written in red clamp-tie things on the desk was the word "Penis."

I dunno either. Best leave it at that.

Sex

2008-05-09T05:21:00.000-07:00

Girl: Where's your bathroom?
Me: Over there.
Girl: Awesome, I love you. Let's have sex.
Me: Okay.
Girl: I'm kidding though.
Me: I figured.
Girl: Like, totally kidding.
Me: Yeah I get it.

Further proof that my crotch is avoided like the plague.

Freedom

2008-05-08T05:31:00.000-07:00

Third shift gives me a little added freedom.

People can cash money-orders with us, but I don't like doing it because it's a pain in the ass. Often, I turn people away wanting to cash their money orders with me, because nobody needs to be getting up to 200 dollars in cash from me at 3:40am. In the afternoon, I probably couldn't find a good enough excuse to not cash someone's money order.

Another one of my favorites is people wanting to break 20's, 50's and 100's. I will usually break 20's, I will rarely break 50's, and will never break 100's. Again, I don't want to give someone change for a 100 dollar bill at 3:40am. I'm not [very] stupid. Freedom in this scenario rests in the fact that I'm not obligated to break large bills. If I don't have to do something, if it isn't a part of my specific job description, if it is at all extra curricular, whether or not I do it is my call and you are at the mercy of whatever my call is.

No amount of arguing will change my mind on much of anything, so if you ask me to break a bill and I say no, that's pretty much it. I won't do it. Not for you, not for Bill Clinton, not for the Queen of France.

Carding people is the best, though. I'm pretty sure I can get in trouble if I card someone then sell them age restricted products anyway. I don't risk it. If I say, "Let me see your Identification," and you won't show me your ID, you shall not leave with what you came for. Period. You can whine, cry, show me your tits, threaten me. It won't matter. Without that little ID card, you won't get anything from me.

Kid: Can I get a pack of Turkish Silver?
Me: Sure, let me see your ID.
Kid: Crap, I don't have it.
Me: You should always have your ID.
It really is always a good idea to have your state issued ID with you
Kid: Seriously? You don't think I'm old enough?
Me: I could grow a beard at sixteen. Don't lecture me.
Kid: Okay, when is someone else coming in?
Me: Shift change is at 6am.
Kid: Do you know of any other place open that won't card me?
Me: No, whenever I ask someone for an ID, I get shown an ID. It never comes up.

And it's largely true. That night, I carded about 30 people, and 29 showed me their IDs.

I did, however, discover that denying people age restricted items for copping an attitude about carding them is something I can get yelled at for. Come on, if your birthday is April 23rd, 1990 and you roll your eyes when I card you, you don't need your Misty Menthol Light 120's.

Apes

2008-05-08T05:26:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure the technology employed at my work is usable by somewhat trained adolescent chimps, so it's amazing to me when a highly advanced brain can't figure out how credit cards work.

You swipe it. That's pretty much it.

Guy: I need cash-back.
Me: Okay.
Guy: So can you just take money off the card?
Me: No, you have to buy something or use the ATM.
Guy: Okay.

So he disappears and comes back with tea.

Me: Okay, .99 cents.
Guy: All right.
Me: Be sure to push debit.
Guy: Okay.

Approved. Receipt prints.

Me: What did you push?
Guy: Credit.
Me: You need to push debit and enter your pin.
Guy: It's not a debit card though.
Me: Uh, why did you agree to use it as a debit then?

He gives me the look. You know, the look. The hate you with everything I've got look.

Guy: Well I guess I fucking bought this for nothing.

And with that, he storms out the doors and power walks away. It has never been, nor shall it ever be, my responsibility to know how your shit works. I can't stress this enough, particularly to the food stamps users.

Chimps, man. Chimps.

Kindness

2008-05-07T07:40:00.000-07:00

By and large, I'm really nice to people. Well, I'm really nice to people that deserve it. If you're really nice to everyone on third shift, the wackos will just take advantage of you. I've really learned to judge well the difference between someone having a rough time and someone chronically having a rough time. I just can't see myself offering a gentle hand to someone dying of liver failure yet keeps drinking anyway.

Last night, there was a big to-do at the gas station involving a bunch of police and paramedics checking on this girl. She had, apparently, gotten into an altercation with her boyfriend and he choked her. I don't know the great details, but she and her friend ended up sitting in the parking lot for several hours, which I decided to allow.

After a while, I started watching them talk and I thought for a moment, "What if this changes the way she feels about people? This isn't right." So I did the only thing I really could do without getting into hellacious trouble with anyone.

I gave them hot chocolate. It wasn't much, just a couple of small, 12oz cups. I told her that I hoped she felt better and all that.

Hey, my philosophy is that you can reverse any shitty night with chocolate. Fuck yeah.

I hope things work out better for her.

Grow up

2008-05-07T07:36:00.000-07:00

Some of the students I see on a nightly basis have a real maturity problem. Some dude last night insisted on making me a mixed drink out in the parking lot after I'd joked about wanting to drink at work.

It would be fun to be drunk at work, I'm pretty sure some of my co-workers are drunk at work occasionally, but seriously, if you've ever worked overnights at a gas station, doing it hindered makes it harder.

So he comes in, sets down the beverage on the counter and says "Have a good one." or something. I just shrugged at the camera and threw it down the drain.

I guess I know who to joke with. Some people take things too damned far. Not to mention I'll never drink something someone makes for me in the parking lot at night. I'm not stupid.

He was very nice to share with me though, I'll give him that.

We hate cellphones

2008-05-06T05:26:00.000-07:00

If you've ever worked behind a register, you know people on the phone are one of the worst because they take forever to do what they need and waste your time. Today, on my day off, I went in to get a nice, cool beverage, and as I stood in line, my very bored assistant manager was ringing up some valley girl who would not shut the fuck up about what happened to her purse that day(or whatever). Before I can even say anything:

Manager: Sorry, I can't help you if you're not on the phone annoying the shit out of me.

This line sums up the general distaste we all have toward people on their phones. It's very impolite.

Beer

2008-05-06T05:11:00.001-07:00

I hate alcohol. Actually, I love alcohol, but I hate selling alcohol, and I hate it when people have alcohol.

Colorado has a couple of blue laws about this. One: you cannot buy any alcohol between the hours of 12:00am and 5:00am, because Jesus doesn't like it(or something). Second: you cannot buy alcohol on Sundays - EXCEPT at gas stations that sell 3.2% beer.

Hey, that's me.

Sitting off the edge of a large liberal art school's campus has it's pros and cons. Unfortunately, they all want beer, and they all want me to break the rules and sell them beer at all hours. It's just not going to happen. The beer-door has a small thing on it that locks it closed, but all you have to do is pull the other handle to open it, so a few kids have gotten the awesome idea that if they can open the door, they are qualified to buy the beer.

Yeah that's not how it works at all.

My favorite one ever was when this older guy, maybe forty or so, unlocked the door and got a 40 out and brought it to my register with some nachos.

Me: You can't buy alcohol.
Douche: Why not?
Me: Hello, after midnight. State law. So on.
Douche: Really?
Brain: Don't play stupid, everybody knows the rules.
Me: Really.
Douche: Well, if you won't sell me beer then I don't want these nachos.

My favorite is when they try to 'punish' me for not doing exactly what they want.

Me: Oh no, what ever shall I do?

Well, what I did do was take the nachos and chuck them over my shoulder into the garbage. Problem solved.

This kinda highlights one of the differences between me and some of the other crew. On nights, we really can't let people in with open beverages and cups because it's bound to have booze in it and we can get our license revoked for it if an officer catches them. So, it's the store's policy to kick them out. I do it differently.

Me: Hey, come here for a second.
Girl: Hey, what's up?
Me: What are you drinking?
Girl: Oh it's a vodka/red bull.
Me: That's cool. Problem is, we can get in big trouble if you're caught with that in here.
Girl: Oh, I'm really sorry!
Me: It's cool, just go outside, chug it real fast, then throw away the cup and come back in.

See? I'm the cool clerk.

Stupid questions

2008-05-04T18:10:00.000-07:00

I'm a smartass. Last night, we ran out of cups in the afternoon because the blocks just to the east of our store were having some pretty huge "double-keggers" so naturally the cups sold out. Across the street from us is another gas station, but this one specializes more in automotive than we do.

Guy: Do you have any more cups?
Me: No, we sold out this afternoon.
Guy: Oh, do they have any across the street?
Me: How should I know? I don't work there. I work here.
Guy: You don't have to be a jerk.

It's true, I don't have to be a jerk, but you know how there's a special shock collar that zaps the dog whenever it bites someone? You don't have to shock the dog when it bites someone, but if you want to break it of a stupid habit, you just have to shock the dog.

The guy was more or less mad because everyone within earshot of me started laughing at him. I can't blame them, I'm nothing short of hilarious.

Dog

2008-05-04T17:59:00.000-07:00

This shit is epic.

Johnny, an older guy who isn't retarded, as he's perfectly functional, but is slow, comes into the store freaking out. I thought he was asking if the second shift lady he's friends with was here, but it turns out he was telling me that there was a dog in the store. I thought he was full of shit until, sure enough, a 100+ lb black lab comes trotting out of the office.

This is what I get for leaving the front door open.

I call the number on the tag hoping that whomever owns the dog, which was actually a very nice dog, would come over and get it.

Lady: Hello?
Me: Hi, sorry to call this late. My name's Tom, I work at the gas station by the college. Your dog is here.
Lady: Oh, okay.
Me: Uhh, can you come pick her up?
Lady: You mean him!? (all offended like)
Me: Whatever dude, just come get your dog.

About a half hour later, she shows up, which is funny cause her address is listed as the 800 block about two blocks away from my store. She gets here and is basically twacked out on some drug, not sure what she was on.

She decides to buy cigarettes. Her card is declined. Declined again. Declined again.

Me: I don't think this card is going to work.
Lady: It works.
Me: Okay, we'll give it one more shot.
Lady: Okay. So how's your night going?
Me: Been pretty steady, had a few keggers so lots of drunks coming around.
Lady: You know, you're being a real asshole.

Slow the fuck down for a second. A friend of mine once said that every white man has an inner black woman that comes to his defense, and Shaniqua was all over that shit. Aw hell now. Z snap.

Me: You know what? Fuck you. You need to take your dog and leave.
Lady: What!?
Me: I said: You. Need. To. Take. Your. Dog. And. Leeeaaaavvveeee.
Lady: My card works.
Me: Don't care. Out.

She got the point, took her dog, and then stood outside for a minute. She looked back in at me and sneered, so I stuck my tongue out at her.

Sometimes even I can be immature.

People get really surprised by how much of a reactionary I can be. I've gotten good about just rolling my eyes and brushing it off, but sometimes I feel inclined to dish shit back, and it always takes the idiot by surprise. People call me really awful things, and when they do, I call them things like "donkey raping shit eater." It really blows them away, but you know what? I have that power. What's the worse that could happen?

Manager: Some customer said you called them a donkey raping shit eater. Why?
Me: They said I was a gaylord faggot that deserved to die.
Manager: Oh, okay. Carry on.

Naked

2008-05-04T17:58:00.000-07:00

Guy: Dude!
Me: What?
Guy: Last time I saw you, I was naked.
Me: Far out.

"Hey, naked people."

2008-05-02T05:22:00.000-07:00

I was talking to some guy about something, I can't remember what now because suddenly a bunch of naked people came out of nowhere. I mean, seriously, titties and peeners flopping about, giggling, screaming. There were about ten of them, mostly guys.

Quite the site to behold. Some of them are my regular customers and on that note, I totally plan on making all their future visits as awkward as possible.

I overheard you two talking...

2008-05-02T05:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the best stories I don't even have to be a part of.

Guy 1: Want to get some baked oysters?
Guy 2: Ugh, no! I'd rather eat out the ass of a menstruating skunk than eat oysters.

This response is appropriate, I believe. I'm not even sure why we sell oysters in a tin anyway.

Bizarro Gas Station

2008-05-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

I think my gas station can best be described as the "Bizarro Gas Station," which I will thoroughly explain as time goes on. If you have a sense of humor at all, you'll flourish. My boss once lined a desk drawer with garbage bags then filled the drawer with spoiled milk and beer so that when the assistant manager would open the drawer, it'd end up spilling all over him.

I have recently decided to forgo becoming an assistant manager.

Since I've started working at that particular store, as I've worked at a few now, there's been one of those toy crocodiles that you put in water and it expands. We're talking well over a month it's been around now, shrinking, then put back into water to expand again. It's starting to smell bad. I turned to my co-worker one afternoon and said,

"I think, as an intervention, I'm going to take that squishy Crocodile home and throw it away."
"Ugh, please, take it. Then people might stop slapping me with it." She rolled her eyes.

I didn't ask questions.

I still haven't taken the crocodile. The last thing I want is for someone to call me asking where it went.

Feel good

2008-05-01T05:14:00.000-07:00

I have an incredibly well-mannered and relaxed boss. I decided, for whatever reason, to put feel-good notes in with the safe-drops for my manager to find later today. Some of them read:

"You're special."

"I like you a lot :)"

"You rock."

Sometimes this is what happens when you have nothing to do at 4:30am.

Apathy, baby

2008-05-01T05:06:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while you get the customer, sometimes not even a customer but a random fly-by, that wants to tell you about their outrageous incident that night. I almost always have no choice but to listen, and can safely say I always don't give a shit.

Some toothless broad, maybe around fifty-four years old comes in, tits flopping in the breeze, and says:

"Guess what they did to me."

Oh man, I totally don't care.

"Oh man, I totally don't care."

She ignores my apathy.

"They threw me outta Memorio' Hospital. They said I couldn't sleep there!"
"Don't care."
"They had their guards escort me to the sidewalk."
"I really don't care."
"They wouldn't even give me a ride back to my house."

Fine, I'll play.

"Did they release you?"
"Yeah at 2pm."
"Well when they release you, that means you have to leave."
"They shoulda give me a ride home, though."
"I can understand I guess, but it isn't really their responsibility."
"Whaeva," she turns to the guy behind her. "Can you give me a ride back to mah house?"

I'm adding my soul to the expired product write-off list.