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For some background, it is not allowed for customers to park on the petrol station forecourt. Firstly, cuz they would be causing an obstruction; secondly, they are not covered in any way by our insurance. Finally, if they do not return, we are perfectly within our rights to ring the police and have their car removed. So begins the saga of the illegal parking SC. 
The SC, let's call him Mr Jones, appears at a crazy time when two of the tills are down and everyone in the immediate area has thought, "We must all get petrol at once!" and dashed into the petrol station. My colleague Sasha and I have closed off half the pumps as my till has just decided to freeze and I am about to call IT when Mr Jones comes in.
"Can I leave my car here?" he asks me. "It's an emergency; I have an important meeting and there are no car park spaces left."
I reply in the negative for the reasons stated above. Mr Jones obviously does not like my reply; he is wearing a suit and looks like a businessman who never hears the word "no" in his line of work. He leaves. I go to ring IT and Sasha deals with the ten billion customers. When I return, Sasha is looking cross.
"That customer you told not to leave his car here, he left his car bang in the middle of the forecourt," she said.
A customer, one of our nice regulars, interjects. "I think that the car is leaking," he says.
Oh shit. I go outside and check out Mr Jones' car, a giant tank sized vehicle. Sure enough, it's gushing petrol rather badly. So badly, in fact, that sand is not going to be able to contain it and we are going to have to shut off the pumps, evacuate and call the fire brigade. Just what we wanted to have to do on a day like this.
I walk to the front and cone it off, explaining to customers that we have a fuel leak and they can't come in.
I head back inside and tell Sasha to make a tannoy message to inform customers that she's going to switch off the pumps and then do it. I go out back to make yet more phone calls; one to Craig the manager over the road, the other to the fire brigade. I am feeling rather cross at Mr Jones; even if he didn't know that his car was leaking, it was still a dickish thing to do. I then go back to help Sasha tell the irate customers now coming in why we had to turn off their pumps, tho the giant pool of petrol surrounding Mr Jones' motor ought to have given them a clue.
When Craig arrives, the last customer has gone and we are waiting for the fire brigade to arrive. I explain more fully to Craig about what has gone down. He says to call the police if Mr Jones doesn't return within the hour as we can't reopen if there's a massive tank car in the middle of the forecourt, cuz of health and safety rules, even after the fire brigade have done their mopping up.
Needless to say, Mr Jones does not return and we have no way of contacting him, so we call the police. During the last hour, the fire brigade arrived and mopped up the fuel spill, plus IT got the two broken tills running again. The only thing that is stopping us reopening is Mr Jones' car. I tell the police the situation, they say that they will try and find contact details for Mr Jones on their computer by tracing the car.
A police car arrives. Apparently, Mr Jones is not at home and nor is anyone else. The police say that they are going to impound the car as Mr Jones is uncontactable and a message will be left on his answerphone informing him of this. A breakdown lorry arrives later and removes Mr Jones' car and takes it to the police pound. As for Mr Jones, we haven't heard a peep from him yet, but it's only a matter of time...
The SC, let's call him Mr Jones, appears at a crazy time when two of the tills are down and everyone in the immediate area has thought, "We must all get petrol at once!" and dashed into the petrol station. My colleague Sasha and I have closed off half the pumps as my till has just decided to freeze and I am about to call IT when Mr Jones comes in.
"Can I leave my car here?" he asks me. "It's an emergency; I have an important meeting and there are no car park spaces left."
I reply in the negative for the reasons stated above. Mr Jones obviously does not like my reply; he is wearing a suit and looks like a businessman who never hears the word "no" in his line of work. He leaves. I go to ring IT and Sasha deals with the ten billion customers. When I return, Sasha is looking cross.
"That customer you told not to leave his car here, he left his car bang in the middle of the forecourt," she said.
A customer, one of our nice regulars, interjects. "I think that the car is leaking," he says.
Oh shit. I go outside and check out Mr Jones' car, a giant tank sized vehicle. Sure enough, it's gushing petrol rather badly. So badly, in fact, that sand is not going to be able to contain it and we are going to have to shut off the pumps, evacuate and call the fire brigade. Just what we wanted to have to do on a day like this.
I walk to the front and cone it off, explaining to customers that we have a fuel leak and they can't come in.I head back inside and tell Sasha to make a tannoy message to inform customers that she's going to switch off the pumps and then do it. I go out back to make yet more phone calls; one to Craig the manager over the road, the other to the fire brigade. I am feeling rather cross at Mr Jones; even if he didn't know that his car was leaking, it was still a dickish thing to do. I then go back to help Sasha tell the irate customers now coming in why we had to turn off their pumps, tho the giant pool of petrol surrounding Mr Jones' motor ought to have given them a clue.
When Craig arrives, the last customer has gone and we are waiting for the fire brigade to arrive. I explain more fully to Craig about what has gone down. He says to call the police if Mr Jones doesn't return within the hour as we can't reopen if there's a massive tank car in the middle of the forecourt, cuz of health and safety rules, even after the fire brigade have done their mopping up.
Needless to say, Mr Jones does not return and we have no way of contacting him, so we call the police. During the last hour, the fire brigade arrived and mopped up the fuel spill, plus IT got the two broken tills running again. The only thing that is stopping us reopening is Mr Jones' car. I tell the police the situation, they say that they will try and find contact details for Mr Jones on their computer by tracing the car.
A police car arrives. Apparently, Mr Jones is not at home and nor is anyone else. The police say that they are going to impound the car as Mr Jones is uncontactable and a message will be left on his answerphone informing him of this. A breakdown lorry arrives later and removes Mr Jones' car and takes it to the police pound. As for Mr Jones, we haven't heard a peep from him yet, but it's only a matter of time...
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