So. Normal day. No power outages. There's a dark red SUV (either a Ford Explorer or Chevy Trailblazer) on Pump 18. And of course, as well all know, this will end badly.
The sound goes off for when the nozzle is put back on the machine and about three clerk heads rise up to watch him out at 18. One of them is mine. Three seconds go by before he starts moving.......and I start moving. I don't remember if I jumped over the swinging door or opened it, and I almost ran into the automatic doors but they opened and all my assistant manager said she saw was a flash of gray and red (my uniform) and all the cigarette tabs I'd stuffed into my pockets fly out like confetti. (We have to save them for inventory.)
I ran across the entire parking lot to the other side and I don't remember how I got there, but I stopped about two yards behind him to get his license plate and he threw the thing into reverse. Both I and my coworkers were very sure he was about to run me down. Nope, he was just screaming out his open window for the car in front of him to get out of his way and try to find another way to go. He didn't even bother to put his gas cap back on, it was hanging down out of the opening. He eventually got away and I was lamenting that I should have shouted something but I was too busy trying to get his license plate.
The most novel thing about the whole experience was that when I was repeating the license plate over and over in my head on the walk back, the guy from Pump 17 was walking toward me with a pen and paper, asking me if I needed it. When I asked if I could use his back to write on he said, "You do what you gotta do, girl. Damn you run FAST."
Needless to say I got tons of high fives, offers to buy me a drink (although I'm underage), and the honor of calling the cops and talking to the hot one when he came in.
Sucky asshole customer (although perhaps not really because he didn't actually buy the gas): yes.
Sucky day: No way.
As a sidenote: I got to hold my first counterfeit bill! It was a ten of all things! A TEN! But it was easy to miss when you weren't looking for it, easy to spot though if it had been a hundred or a fifty or even a twenty, we would have noticed. But not a ten. Jeez.
The sound goes off for when the nozzle is put back on the machine and about three clerk heads rise up to watch him out at 18. One of them is mine. Three seconds go by before he starts moving.......and I start moving. I don't remember if I jumped over the swinging door or opened it, and I almost ran into the automatic doors but they opened and all my assistant manager said she saw was a flash of gray and red (my uniform) and all the cigarette tabs I'd stuffed into my pockets fly out like confetti. (We have to save them for inventory.)
I ran across the entire parking lot to the other side and I don't remember how I got there, but I stopped about two yards behind him to get his license plate and he threw the thing into reverse. Both I and my coworkers were very sure he was about to run me down. Nope, he was just screaming out his open window for the car in front of him to get out of his way and try to find another way to go. He didn't even bother to put his gas cap back on, it was hanging down out of the opening. He eventually got away and I was lamenting that I should have shouted something but I was too busy trying to get his license plate.
The most novel thing about the whole experience was that when I was repeating the license plate over and over in my head on the walk back, the guy from Pump 17 was walking toward me with a pen and paper, asking me if I needed it. When I asked if I could use his back to write on he said, "You do what you gotta do, girl. Damn you run FAST."
Needless to say I got tons of high fives, offers to buy me a drink (although I'm underage), and the honor of calling the cops and talking to the hot one when he came in.

Sucky asshole customer (although perhaps not really because he didn't actually buy the gas): yes.
Sucky day: No way.
As a sidenote: I got to hold my first counterfeit bill! It was a ten of all things! A TEN! But it was easy to miss when you weren't looking for it, easy to spot though if it had been a hundred or a fifty or even a twenty, we would have noticed. But not a ten. Jeez.
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