Closed for Cleaning

the title of this post effectively describes what these three girls sounded like two minutes before 2am. of course, they wanted beer. they ran into the store, screaming, all talking at once. one even said she’d show me her boobs. for beer. even if she did show me her boobs, i still wouldn’t sell beer. i told the girls “no”, and one of them went to the back area, where we have beer displays that can’t be locked up, to grab a 12 pack of corona. she put it back down as i was going to the door to lock them in, and soon after, they left.

for those that say they’ll do anything if i sell them beer past our cut-off time (12am), i will have them go outside to do the safety dance.

other than that my night was okay. the only other thing i can remember is this one guy getting upset because i wouldn’t accept a 20 that had a hole in it. our safe just doesn’t take bills with defects. he had other 20s in his wad, but he said “those are for something else.” what? dude, they’re worth the same. we just aren’t able to accept damaged bills because we’ll get stuck with them. what, do you have some sort of superstition that if you spend bills in the wrong order, you get bad luck? well, it seems you were unlucky because you forgot your lottery ticket. oops!

and one more thing … assholes that try to address me as if i were a dog will be ignored. seriously. clerks are people, too, you know. human beings. we appreciate being treated as such.

my night began with telling panhandling steve and his buddies to leave the premesis. his friend was all “oh you just don’t like us.” no, i don’t. i told them that, and i said “do not pass go, do not collect $200, in fact don’t collect anything. just leave.” he’s on his bike, and he’s pulling out of the parking lot and stopped in front of this car that was about to pull in. lucky for him, the driver stopped. then he was all “do not pass go, i am a nigger.” he left the parking lot after that.

my shift starts off okay after that, but i get this guy who RAGED when i charged him for children’s nyquil. $10.01. he puts a five on the counter, starts to count out his ones, and throws all his ones on the counter. he had $4 extra, which i kept as a tip.

later on, i get two people trying to scam me for cigarettes, in a span of five minutes. one guy claims that my coworker jennifer never gave him his pack of camels. i tell him the usual “come back in the morning, then the manager can find out.” he buys another pack instead. then i realize, that he already got his cigarettes, because i rang him up, not jen, and i gave him his smokes, because i remember making a comment about the display being rearranged. so that was taken care of. then, not even two minutes later, this other guy claims he never got his newports. i tell him there is nothing i can do, since, i haven’t seen him, nor is my coworker there to confirm anything. i give him the manager’s number, and tell him to call. he says “can’t i get at least two cigarettes? or my $4.25 back since i didn’t get my cigarettes?” lol wut? newports are $4.46, buddy. if you paid $4.25, you’re either at the wrong station, or tried to get them a couple months ago. or, you’re just a lying sack of shit.

everything went okay for the rest of the night. then i get this guy who pretty much insulted me because i gave him a gold dollar coin as change. key words - gold, coin. he says that since he’s older than me he has more experience with money. and that someone, could mistaken a gold dollar coin as a quarter. that’s the whole fucking reason they’re gold in the first place, dipshit. if you’re saying that you could spend a gold fucking coin as a quarter which is not gold, then you can’t be so experienced as you think you are. also, it’s still a dollar, and legal tender. though, you were lucky i was in a good mood and let you have your precious paper bill. ohhhh yes, can’t let the spoiled 37 year old brat not get his paper money, right? (note: i realize some things don’t take dollar coins as dollars. but, he was not bringing up that point, so it’s irrelevant to this case.)

i’m sure you’re familiar with the ever-famous policy of stores: “no shirt, no shoes, no service”. well, this one guy went nuts when i enforced it. first, let’s rewind. this girl comes in, wanting a pack of swishers. she looks under 18, so naturally, i card her. she doesn’t have id, so no sale. a minute or so later, a guy comes in, without a shirt on, and baggy pants hanging so low you can see his boxers. i tell him twice he needs to put a shirt on, but he goes straight into his order, which was, as i predicted, a pack of swishers. i tell him “no”, because he is not wearing a shirt. (on top of that, the possibility of buying tobacco for a minor?) he starts arguing with me saying that everybody “does it”. i tell him i won’t sell him the swishers, and he gets very angry. like, he gestured as if he were about to jump over the counter at me. i roll my eyes, and watch him storm out in a rage failing to slam the door behind him. i tell him not to come back.

look, kid, rules are rules. no shirt, no service means no shirt, no service. no exceptions. unless, of course, you’re cute, in which case, i might let it slide. but you’re definitely not cute, you’re hideous, a crime against nature. i don’t want to see you shirtless, and i’m sure nobody else does either. so put on a shirt, if you want to go into a store. okay?

this was the biggest source of lulz from last night.

so what we have here, is a failure to communicate. my shift starts out all fine and dandy until i go to do my normal routine cleaning of the coffee area, and find that the evening crew, had left it a fucking wreck. there was a huge puddle of coffee all over the counter, underneath the machines and displays. all the pots were near empty, except for one, which was bone dry, and still on a hot burner, thus rendered useless. i go in the back to find that another pot is cracked. now, i don’t have a problem with messes. messes happen. what does piss me off, however, is the fact that the two people that were working when i got there, failed to mention it to me. i mean, it’s not that hard to say “hey, there’s a major coffee spill that needs to be cleaned.” and jen, you work at starbucks. you should be ashamed of yourself for letting this happen.

another communication failure - the push broom doesn’t go back together properly. the spring mechanism in the clip which attaches to the broom part, doesn’t spring anymore. so it would come apart each time you lift up the broom, basically. no one bothered to say anything about it. i just duct taped it back together and went on with my shift. but still, it would be nice to have been told there was a problem with the broom, especially if you told the manager about it so he could get a new one.

then we have the handtruck which we use to move around cases of drinks and bags of ice. a wheel fell off. whoever used it last lost the pin that held it in place, and it sure as hell wasn’t me. a paper clip solved the problem. though, once again — would be nice if we knew about this problem beforehand.

other than these three problems with my coworkers expecting me to be psychic, my night went pretty well. other than a few problematic customers.

remember the bitch that cried about the beer being locked up *before* midnight? well, she came back with her husband, who started to ask me about me not treating his wife with respect when she interrupted him. she asked why they (quik stop) keep me there and stuff. i just ignored her question and let her talk. apparently, she wants me fired. because i am mean to her or something. well, look, i respect those who deserve it. after giving me crap the last two times, i don’t think she’s worthy of it. if she don’t like me, she could just not show her face while i’m working. plain and simple.

then we have the … i don’t know how to describe him. he did provide a little bit of lulz. he asked for some cigarettes, and naturally, i carded him. and he started ranting about “i don’t care if you work for apple” and shit like that. stuff about being trained by bill gates and stuff. and anarchy. um, yeah, dude. whatever.

another lady comes in, trying to break a 50. fortunately, she had a friend that had two 20s, two 5s. eventually i get her to use the two 5s for the $10 worth of gas she wanted, since i had very limited change at the time. another friend of hers took a 29 cent candy, saying she would cover it. it took me another while to get the 29 cents from the lady, with her saying “i’ve got it”. asking me if it comes out of my paycheck or whatever. then, when she *finally* gives me the money she says “didn’t you read my face when you said i got it?” my response to that was, not out loud, “yeah, and didn’t you read *my* face when i said okay. it was like, if you got it, then where is it?” i think she was intoxicated or something.

lastly, we have panhandling steve. (originally, i call him panhandling dan, but we already have a dan, and he’s the dork that is supposed to be the assistant manager.) he is not welcome on our property. if he comes in, he comes in to steal. if he’s outside, he says he’s waiting for a ride. though he’s really begging people for money. i tell him to go away, and he walks towards the bus stop, asking people for change along the way. he comes back, asking more people for change. i tell him again to go away. and he walks *towards the store*. i ask him why, and he doesn’t answer, he just takes something out the ashtray, and walks away. once again…asking someone for change. look, dude, when i say to leave the store property, i mean *leave*. don’t pass go, don’t collect $200, just get the fuck off our property!

that’s about it. i’m looking forward to the next few days. it’s a holiday weekend, which will make things all the more interesting.

guy comes in, he seemed pretty cool. joked around a bit and stuff. it was all fun, up until he tried paying for his $5 worth of crap with, guess what — $100 bill. i tell him that we can’t do it, and he said he needed to, the bar across the street was “closed because of a scraper fight” so he couldn’t do it there, and he owed the guy from 7-11 $1.29 because he ate food while in line (so, pay him?). i insist that we can’t break a $100 bill. he says to call and ask my manager, i tell him no. then he gets all tourettesy and leaves, ranting saying stuff about “getting robbed” and “what is wrong with society?” i get on the intercom and say “if i can pull change out my ass, i wouldn’t be working here.” he screamed, and left the parking lot.

so, apparently, society has problems because one store can’t break his (possibly fake) $100 bill? if that’s the biggest problem with society, then, it can’t possibly be as bad as we think.

another issue that amused me was this one lady who came in at 5am wanting to cash her scratchers. i tell her to wait an hour, that it will be on after six. she comes in at 6, and i tell her it will be about 15 minutes before we can redeem the tickets, since the new day hasn’t started (as far as our systems are concerned). then she *calls* us and asks when we’ll cash her tickets, my boss tells her it will be in a minute. she never came back. guess she realized that quik stop isn’t the only place that can cash lottery tickets.

( and to whomever tried passing off that obvious fake $10 bill that was *horribly* done to a coworker: lol )

seriously, when i say “we’re only doing gas at this time”, i mean that we’re only doing gas sales. no donuts, no soda, no cigarettes, no anything else. when the floor is wet, i can’t let anyone into the store. it’s a liability issue. i know you people, you like to sue for any reason you can. if i let you in, and you slip and fall, you’d blame us, despite all warnings.

also, i don’t do the “just one thing” if you’re nice about it thing either. one guy came in for “just cigarettes” and spent 20 minutes browsing, thus wasting 20 minutes where i could be cleaning bathrooms or whatever. he ruined it for everyone else, with a few minor exceptions. (ie, those i know really well).

guilt trips don’t work on me, either. if you’re thirsty, i’m sure you have water at your house. hungry? i’m sure you have something in the fridge or something. that “crippled” guy understood, and you just *had* to use him to try and make me feel bad. i told him we’d be open in ten minutes, and he was okay with it. also, saying that god will bless me? give me a break. i have no problem with people saying “god bless you”, but leave him out of this mess. you just want food and drink faster, not need. and don’t you realize i could be hungry and thirsty too? >:|

and to the guy who said he was joking about kicking my ass over nachos? shut the fuck up. if you knew you couldn’t get nachos on food stamps, then why raise a fuss over it? for the lulz? and threatening to kick my ass wasn’t funny because there are people who actually mean it, so i take such things, seriously. if you were trying to lighten me up after thinking you scared me because i said nothing in response to your threat, i still wasn’t smiling. i was ready to throw hot soup in your face and stab you in the eye with my roflknife. then you would have owed me for one package of kitsune udon. no, make that a bowl of actual kitsune udon, from miyagi sushi bar and grill. quik stop is serious business.

i’ve had no other problems last night, things were actually quite mellow.

i swear upon all that is kawaii, this guy had to be the stupidest of the stupid. he comes in to pay for his gas. he’s very hard of hearing apparently, which makes things even worse for me, when after he fails to pump his gas the first time, i have to keep repeating myself. i hate repeating myself. `i was just dumbfounded by his stupidity. how the fuck can someone who drives not know how to pump gas? when i was six, i knew how to do it. no one can possibly be that stupid. he literally asked me “how do i get the pump to work?” when i watched him, he wasn’t even putting the nozzle in his car until the third try. even then he kept failing. it’s like, he didnt know, he had to SQUEEZE THE TRIGGER to get the fuel flowing.

then next, he wanted directions to some place in west sacramento. i told him repeatedly, that i couldn’t help him. then he asked me if i knew where sacramento was. i couldnt tell if he was being sarcastic, or if he really didn’t know where he was, so i just said, “no, sorry. i’m lucky to even be able to make it to work without getting lost.” eventually, he left.

more wonders of the night. this guy who panhandled here before, and was practically playing ping pong between us and the station across the street, came back. it took me a while to recognize him, and by then it was too late. he had already stolen shit. (99 cent shit). why can’t he just, you know, go away?

store’s closed for cleaning and this group comes up to the door. i say “gas only”, because, i do let people buy gas if they have exact cash and are polite. one girl asked “so we can’t get pizza or anything?” i was still frustrated at the failure from earlier who couldn’t pump gas, so i asked her if she knew what “gas only” meant. she left in a huff. ’cause, really. since when does gas include pizza? and if you go to a 99 cent only store, would you expect to find items that are not 99 cents? (other than parts to a set? gas island is open for those needing gas, during the time the store is closed. the only exceptions are security officers, cops, and the newspaper courier)

this is from thursday night - seems the brats are back in full force now that it’s summer. luckily, only two came in, and i stopped them from stealing an extra donut and a stick of beef jerkey. bastards. i told one kid’s mother last night about what her kid’s been doing.

oh and that can’t break 100 thing? still applies. dude with all 100s? quit bitching. not my fault you only have large fucking bills to pay for a five dollar purchase. mexican couple? way to waste a burrito for a pack of cigarettes. though you get credit for finding a solution anyways.

back to last night, to the woman that yelled about the “fucking beer”, um, yes, we’re fucking serious, we fucking stop selling at midnight because our fucking license fucking forbids any fucking sales from fucking midnihgt until fucking six. i don’t appreciate your motherfucking language, you piece of leaking anus. can’t you be any fucking polite, in your damned means? no? then stay away from here. (yes, every other word she said was “fuck”. i think she had tourettes)

and to that *stupid* mexican who wants beer when i can’t sell it? no, just no. i will not sell it to you until it is legal to do so. you were two hours early, one hour early. and you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. “just one beer” is *not* okay. if i get caught, i will lose my job and get fined. it will be a negative mark on my permanent record, and my life will basically be screwed because i sold beer before 6am. so, no.

i bet the heat melts people’s brains. and the pot they smoke doesn’t help matters.

I’ve been neglecting this little blog, haven’t I? Well, here’s an update with a few little tidbits.

Beer Bitches

So here I was, calling the highway patrol on this car that was abandoned at one of the pumps, when this 40-year old black lady comes in, and walks to the back to get some beer. Now, I have the doors locked because we have some sneaky assholes in our neighborhood. She tries to open the door to get beer, finds it’s locked. “It’s not midnight yet!” she shouted while I was STILL on the phone, trying to report this vehicle. The time was 11:50pm. After I got off the phone, I told the lady “You have to pay first.” She responded, in a very rude tone “I want my beer!”

At that point, I was very annoyed at her, so I said, “Okay. So give us money, and we’ll give you beer.” I was still trying to be nice. She comes up, ranting at me about my attitude, and how she didn’t like how I told her to pay first. I rolled my eyes, rang up the beer, swiped her EBT cash card, all while she was still ranting. Once the transaction was finished, there was another customer, who just needed gas. “Let me take care of this person, then I’ll get you your beer.” The bitch yelled, “NO! I WANT IT NOW!” I still took care of the gas customer, which took all but two seconds, then I went in the cooler and got her beer, all while she was ranting about how I left her hanging, and my attitude sucked, and my service sucked. She said she was gonna tell my manager on me. Basically a bunch of “Bawwwwww!” I just told her “Whatever” and sent her on her way.

Bitch. You don’t come in when it is damn close to midnight and I am on the phone trying to talk to the fucking POLICE, and fucking bitch your head off. You were lucky I decided to serve you after you did that. I could have kicked you out AND reported you right then and there.

Beer Bitch 2

This one here, thinks I am just refusing to sell beer past midnight. I told her about our liquor license, and how we’re not allowed to do it. She threatened to speak to my manager. LOL

Though she was pretty old, so maybe she really didn’t know that they changed the laws yet.

“Let me see it!”

I clearly held this item which is encased in clear plastic so he could see it. It was a car charger for his phone. I pointed at the end to show, that this, indeed, was the right one. But he wanted to hold it. I told him to pay first before doing it, and he got pissed. He thought I was being racist. He asked the new guy (who was much older than me) if he was the manager. I sarcastically responded, “No, I am. In fact, I own this place.” He asked for the corporate phone number, and I gave him my cell phone number. He never called. Which is good, because if he did, he would have gotten rickrolled.

Take better care of your money

Look, guy, I know it’s a real 20, but…It’s just too…beat up and torn. Our safe won’t even take bills with a tiny fold in them. Not even tape would help. I can’t even give this to other customers. So what this means is…well, we’ll be stuck with it, unable to pass it on to anyone else. So we can’t accept it. I’m sorry. <microsoft sam>sad face</microsoft sam>

In all seriousness, take better fucking care of your money. Really.

PS: To that guy who had an ugly looking $10 (with two $5s) and swapped them out for a decent $20, you win my respect.

No change means no change

The $100 bill is money, but we just can’t break it. We have a strict amount of change in our register, I can barely manage to break a $50 at times. Also, we’re not even supposed to take those at night time. I understand you’re on E, I understand no other place will take it. I know it’s money. I know it’s authentic (well, I don’t know, really). But we just can’t break it. You probably should have gotten gas earlier, or probably have asked for smaller bills at the bank.

Two customers win my respect for understanding, even though it took a while to get one to comprehend it (probably because of language barriers).

That’s not a fucking drain

Oh. It’s YOU again. Great, you make a mess with the Icee. You let it run into the drip tray AND you pour half a cup into there, after I tell you TWICE not to do it. You think I’m giving you attitude every time you come in here? That’s because you’re a fucking SLOB. I just finished cleaning the god damn store, of course I am pissed off that you make a mess. You also don’t LISTEN. Also, you have had a history of stealing shit from here.

Don’t show your fucking face in this store again. At least not until you learn to care more about the world around you, rather than just yourself. No, I’m not letting you back in to get something else. Go sit on a bomb.

No ID, No Sale

Store policy says if you look under 30, then we must ID. You look under 30. We must ID. I don’t care if you’re older than me. I’m 21. I look 17.

Pestering customers outside was unacceptable. And I really shouldn’t have let you back in so you can just browse to make it look like you weren’t loitering. Douchebag.

–

That’s it for now.

guy comes in, wanting to buy some dramamine. fine. his friend comes in a few seconds later to buy gas. then the fun began. the guy who bought the dramamine came back in, asking me if it would keep him awake or if it would make him fall asleep. i couldn’t answer and he got pissed and demanded an answer. i tell him - i’m a cashier, not a pharmacist. he asked my coworker the same question, saying he wanted help going to sleep. she suggests getting tylenol pm. the guy wants to exchange the dramamine for the tylenol, but store policy forbids exchanging medication after purchase. all medication sales are final. he appeared to be getting aggressive so i prepared my beating stick for defense. then he got violent, and his girlfriend needed to drag him out of the store. he was still screaming afterwards. i think he should have gotten midol instead.

next up, we have a cell phone customer. some asshole who can’t seem to stop talking on his phone. the sale went okay, and i gave him his receipt as he was taking another call. he asked for matches, and i told him we don’t have any. he insists that we do because “all gas stations have matches”, which i think is bullshit. i told him “no”, and he said that it was okay because he knew that i was saying that because i didn’t want to give him any. yes - shocking, isn’t it? i deny people matches so i can keep them all to myself. after that, he insisted that i never gave him a receipt. a problem easily solved since i could just reprint it, but, i didn’t appreciate being called a liar. pay more attention to the world around you rather than your bro on the phone.

420 is approaching.

this guy comes in, wearing a white jacket with a fur trim. i’ve seen this man before, and i know he has a history of stealing shit. so, i keep my eye on him. he asks for a pack of kool 100’s, and he goes into the candy aisle, to get some candy. he grabs three reeses peanut butter packs, and pockets two of them, putting the third on the counter. i saw this, so i charged him for three. he tried playing dumb, saying he doesn’t have anything in his pocket. i call him on his bullshit, and finally take the cigarettes off his tab.

listen, guy. i am not a moron. nor was i born yesterday. do you seriously expect me to believe those other two packs of peanut butter cups mysteriously vanished, or that you dropped them behind the hostess display? give me a break. i saw what i saw, and so did the goddamn cameras. if i see you again, i am calling the cops. so, don’t come back, you subhuman piece of lying amphibian shit.