It's fairly straight forward, right? You look under twenty five years old and ask for cigarettes; I ask for ID, you show me ID, you get cigarettes. Not to this guy.
ID moron, or IDM, asked me for twenty Mayfair. Due to Think 25, we have to ID any customer who looks under twenty five years old. Yes, you have to be eighteen to purchase smokes, but if you look younger than twenty five, you should expect to have to flash your ID. Not so IDM.
"Why are you IDing me?" he asked, crossly. "I'm twenty two. I shouldn't have to deal with all this shit."
"I'm sorry, but due to Think 25 we have to ID anyone who looks under twenty five," I replied.
"Well, I don't have my driving licience, but cuz I'm twenty two, you have to serve me."
"Sorry, but if you don't have ID, I can't serve you."
"Where's your manager?" IDM bitched. "I want to make a complaint about you."
I waved him in the direction of Martin, the second in command at the petrol station. IDM went over there and bitched, I went back to serving customers. Eventually, I looked up to see IDM storming out the door. Martin came over to me and said that he'd backed me up, and apparently, IDM hadn't liked that one bit and had said that Martin would be sorry, before tantruming out of the petrol station.
"If he comes back," Martin added, "Let me deal with him."
IDM did indeed return, but here's the kicker; his mother was with him. Mother Dearest immediately went over to Martin and started screeching about how he had to serve her son with cigarettes, cuz he was twenty two. Wait, what? What kind of twenty two year old is still attached to Mummy's apron strings? O_o
Anyway, it didn't work. Martin just told Mother Dearest the same thing as he told IDM. She didn't like it and started making threats, so Martin told her and her son to get out before he called over security. They both left, and I haven't seen them since; not shedding too many tears over that.
ID moron, or IDM, asked me for twenty Mayfair. Due to Think 25, we have to ID any customer who looks under twenty five years old. Yes, you have to be eighteen to purchase smokes, but if you look younger than twenty five, you should expect to have to flash your ID. Not so IDM.
"Why are you IDing me?" he asked, crossly. "I'm twenty two. I shouldn't have to deal with all this shit."
"I'm sorry, but due to Think 25 we have to ID anyone who looks under twenty five," I replied.
"Well, I don't have my driving licience, but cuz I'm twenty two, you have to serve me."
"Sorry, but if you don't have ID, I can't serve you."
"Where's your manager?" IDM bitched. "I want to make a complaint about you."
I waved him in the direction of Martin, the second in command at the petrol station. IDM went over there and bitched, I went back to serving customers. Eventually, I looked up to see IDM storming out the door. Martin came over to me and said that he'd backed me up, and apparently, IDM hadn't liked that one bit and had said that Martin would be sorry, before tantruming out of the petrol station.
"If he comes back," Martin added, "Let me deal with him."
IDM did indeed return, but here's the kicker; his mother was with him. Mother Dearest immediately went over to Martin and started screeching about how he had to serve her son with cigarettes, cuz he was twenty two. Wait, what? What kind of twenty two year old is still attached to Mummy's apron strings? O_o
Anyway, it didn't work. Martin just told Mother Dearest the same thing as he told IDM. She didn't like it and started making threats, so Martin told her and her son to get out before he called over security. They both left, and I haven't seen them since; not shedding too many tears over that.

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