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So I usually don't work overnights but we were supposed to have a new trainee that my manager wanted me to train. That didn't happen because the schmuck never showed up. For any of his shifts. Be that as it may, she didn't change the schedule so I'm stuck doing two of the overnights. One Saturday into Sunday and one Sunday into Monday.
As soon as I come in Saturday night my CW has a tale for me about how she was super busy (very possible as we are ALONE and often swamped by bar patrons at night, oh and by the way, we have EIGHT BARS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE to our 24 hour store). She didn't get much done so it was probably going to be a hectic night (it was) with all the stuff I had to get done.
She also had a long and winding tale about an old man who held up her line until at least four customers had walked out in a rage and she'd had to eventually tell the old man to go pound sand (and he got into a verbal altercation with another customer who'd been waiting). So of COURSE I knew this was going to be a fun night.
----
A few hours into my shift there's a woman who comes in and she comes up with a Cesar wrap in a little plastic container. These wraps have stickers on them that say "______ Restaurant." Half of our little tiny store is taken up by an independently owned company that pays us rent to be a part of our store. They make ALL THE FOOD. I do NOT WORK FOR THAT COMPANY. I do not have ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM AT ALL (except to joke around with them when they're working and to steal pickles from them when they're not looking.) Almost everything in the little sandwich case is THEIRS.
Oh yeah, and she's drunk as a skunk.
SC: Where's the cesar dressing on this cesar wrap?
Me: It's usually mixed in with the ingredients. They make them fresh every day so they don't get soggy.
SC: This is looking pretty damn dry. *gives me a look like it's my fault* (Let's be clear, she hadn't even opened it yet.)
Me: Well if there isn't any on it, that would be something you'd have to take up with _______ Restaurant.
SC : Why can't you help me? Where are your dressing packets? I SAW salads over there, you HAVE to have dressing packets.
Me: I don't have anything. That is all _______ Restaurant. Their salads have cups of dressing that are inside the salad containers. Anything that has a sticker on it like this is made by a completely separate company that I have nothing to do with. I don't make food, I don't touch food, I don't even come near the food.
SC: You're pretty useless then, huh? If this doesn't have cesar dressing on it, I'm coming back.
Me: Come back when they're open because there is literally nothing I can do about that.
SC: Ugh. Well do you AT LEAST have mayonnaise?
Me: I don't have ANYTHING food related. You're going to have to look over on ______ Restaurant's counter if you want mayo or ketchup or even just a fork.
SC: Fine, whatever.
----
Later, as I was cleaning, I found an unwrapped use-to-be-frozen burrito in the microwave that someone probably didn't even pay for.
----
Our propane cages are outside and I have to open them with a key. They're well-lit and not too far from the store. I would be able to see anyone inside the store through the large windows and I can see all the pumps. This is also an INSANELY quiet town that hasn't seen a murder since before my parents were born. It's not completely out of the norm for strangers to catch rides with locals so they go to the "right" bar instead of going to the wrong one out of ignorance. This guy was probably trying to be funny and came off creepy instead. I combat creepy with HELLA CREEPY.
SC: Can I get a propane exchange? Can you do that?
Me: Sure, I don't see why not.
SC: All by yourself? In the dark?
Me: ...are you trying to get me to change my mind? I mean, if you're scared I'm gonna kill you and hide your body behind the propane cages, I really do understand, we don't have to do this.
SC:
-----------------------------------------------------
Not from the overnight but still of note:
A guy the other day stated to a regular about me: "I thought the bitch was trying to be rude so I had to mess with her." He was lucky the regular has her work partner with her, I thought she was gonna lay him flat in the parking lot.
--
I was concentrating on answering a question a customer had posed to me when another customer stepped up to the counter.
SC: Hey, how are you?
Me: *rings his things, still trying to answer the first customer's question*
SC: I SAID, HEY HOW ARE YOU!!!!!
Me: Hi?????? 
Apparently it's okay to step in front of another customer but rude when the cashier doesn't answer your question right away.
--
SC: Do you have squeegees?
Me: We don't have squeegees for sale but we should have the ones outside. Are there any out there?
SC: THAT'S WHAT I'M ASKING YOU. GOD.
Me: ...
I'm not sure, why don't you go look?
SC: FUCKING GREAT. *storms out*
I drew a mini comic on receipt paper that depicted this scene and the last panel was me dragging a black bag leaking fluid toward the dumpster and my manager saying "Is that blood? Wait, nevermind, I don't want to know." We all know that's how that should have ended.
--
SC: Why are you ID'ing me for cigarettes? I'm old enough to be your GRANDFATHER.
Me: I don't know how old you think I am but my grandfather is in his late seventies.
SC: Well I'm 53!
Me: My Dad is 53. You're old enough to be my Dad. If you were my grandfather, you'd be a GREAT grandfather. At 53.
I don't have kids but my sister does. People treat me like I'm 12...for the love of God.
--
SC: Thank you sir...ma'am...sir, ma'am? Sir? *appears to get more and more confused*
Me: Either is good.
SC: No...but...really, which is it?
Me: Gender neutral.
Next customer: "What in the hell was that? Good lord, is it so hard to read a name tag?"
As soon as I come in Saturday night my CW has a tale for me about how she was super busy (very possible as we are ALONE and often swamped by bar patrons at night, oh and by the way, we have EIGHT BARS WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE to our 24 hour store). She didn't get much done so it was probably going to be a hectic night (it was) with all the stuff I had to get done.
She also had a long and winding tale about an old man who held up her line until at least four customers had walked out in a rage and she'd had to eventually tell the old man to go pound sand (and he got into a verbal altercation with another customer who'd been waiting). So of COURSE I knew this was going to be a fun night.
----
A few hours into my shift there's a woman who comes in and she comes up with a Cesar wrap in a little plastic container. These wraps have stickers on them that say "______ Restaurant." Half of our little tiny store is taken up by an independently owned company that pays us rent to be a part of our store. They make ALL THE FOOD. I do NOT WORK FOR THAT COMPANY. I do not have ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM AT ALL (except to joke around with them when they're working and to steal pickles from them when they're not looking.) Almost everything in the little sandwich case is THEIRS.
Oh yeah, and she's drunk as a skunk.
SC: Where's the cesar dressing on this cesar wrap?
Me: It's usually mixed in with the ingredients. They make them fresh every day so they don't get soggy.
SC: This is looking pretty damn dry. *gives me a look like it's my fault* (Let's be clear, she hadn't even opened it yet.)
Me: Well if there isn't any on it, that would be something you'd have to take up with _______ Restaurant.
SC : Why can't you help me? Where are your dressing packets? I SAW salads over there, you HAVE to have dressing packets.
Me: I don't have anything. That is all _______ Restaurant. Their salads have cups of dressing that are inside the salad containers. Anything that has a sticker on it like this is made by a completely separate company that I have nothing to do with. I don't make food, I don't touch food, I don't even come near the food.
SC: You're pretty useless then, huh? If this doesn't have cesar dressing on it, I'm coming back.
Me: Come back when they're open because there is literally nothing I can do about that.
SC: Ugh. Well do you AT LEAST have mayonnaise?
Me: I don't have ANYTHING food related. You're going to have to look over on ______ Restaurant's counter if you want mayo or ketchup or even just a fork.
SC: Fine, whatever.
----
Later, as I was cleaning, I found an unwrapped use-to-be-frozen burrito in the microwave that someone probably didn't even pay for.
----
Our propane cages are outside and I have to open them with a key. They're well-lit and not too far from the store. I would be able to see anyone inside the store through the large windows and I can see all the pumps. This is also an INSANELY quiet town that hasn't seen a murder since before my parents were born. It's not completely out of the norm for strangers to catch rides with locals so they go to the "right" bar instead of going to the wrong one out of ignorance. This guy was probably trying to be funny and came off creepy instead. I combat creepy with HELLA CREEPY.
SC: Can I get a propane exchange? Can you do that?
Me: Sure, I don't see why not.
SC: All by yourself? In the dark?
Me: ...are you trying to get me to change my mind? I mean, if you're scared I'm gonna kill you and hide your body behind the propane cages, I really do understand, we don't have to do this.
SC:
-----------------------------------------------------
Not from the overnight but still of note:
A guy the other day stated to a regular about me: "I thought the bitch was trying to be rude so I had to mess with her." He was lucky the regular has her work partner with her, I thought she was gonna lay him flat in the parking lot.
--
I was concentrating on answering a question a customer had posed to me when another customer stepped up to the counter.
SC: Hey, how are you?
Me: *rings his things, still trying to answer the first customer's question*
SC: I SAID, HEY HOW ARE YOU!!!!!
Me:
Hi?????? Apparently it's okay to step in front of another customer but rude when the cashier doesn't answer your question right away.
--
SC: Do you have squeegees?
Me: We don't have squeegees for sale but we should have the ones outside. Are there any out there?
SC: THAT'S WHAT I'M ASKING YOU. GOD.
Me: ...
I'm not sure, why don't you go look?SC: FUCKING GREAT. *storms out*
I drew a mini comic on receipt paper that depicted this scene and the last panel was me dragging a black bag leaking fluid toward the dumpster and my manager saying "Is that blood? Wait, nevermind, I don't want to know." We all know that's how that should have ended.
--
SC: Why are you ID'ing me for cigarettes? I'm old enough to be your GRANDFATHER.
Me: I don't know how old you think I am but my grandfather is in his late seventies.
SC: Well I'm 53!
Me: My Dad is 53. You're old enough to be my Dad. If you were my grandfather, you'd be a GREAT grandfather. At 53.
I don't have kids but my sister does. People treat me like I'm 12...for the love of God.
--
SC: Thank you sir...ma'am...sir, ma'am? Sir? *appears to get more and more confused*
Me: Either is good.
SC: No...but...really, which is it?
Me: Gender neutral.
Next customer: "What in the hell was that? Good lord, is it so hard to read a name tag?"
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