First, let me say that believe it or not, I usually enjoy my job as a truck stop cashier. It pays the bills while leaving my brain free to think about what I might be writing when I get home. (Nothing published yet, but I’ve always been an optimist.) The vast majority of customers are polite, or at least inoffensive. That being said, I’d like to address the woman who asked for a gas receipt today, sneered at the register receipt I handed her, and, when I offered to write her out a receipt with gallons on it, told me to get a real job and stomped out in a snit:
SUCK MY CUNT, you withered up stupid bitch! Would a “yes, please, that’s the kind I need” have been beyond your capabilities, you inarticulate goat-squicking hunk of animated shit?!? Do I look like a goddamn mind-reader? You asked for a receipt, that’s what I gave you. I’m usually more than glad to give people the benefit of the doubt but there is NO EXCUSE for being a hateful old hag when I politely and promptly offered to give you whatever it was you needed! And what, exactly, is your definition of a “real” job? What the fuck do you do for a living? Judging by the beat-up piece of shit you were driving, NOT A WHOLE HELL OF A LOT! I make decent pay and have benefits; is that not a “real” job? Or do you think I get paid in Monopoly money, you half-witted inbred buck-toothed Spam eating lump of worthless ectoplasm, sucking up oxygen that could be put to better use by people who actually have possession of a functional brain? KISS MY SHINY WHITE REAL JOB HAVING ASS, BITCH!
This rant brought to you courtesy of Excedrin Headache Vat No. 604.
I can’t decide whether to award it the “Yin-Yang Personality” Award, or my “Controlled Explosion” Award, so you receive both. Congratulations on your wondrous unmatched achievement.
I wonder why she wanted the receipt in the first place. If she really needed the receipt to document a fuel purchase during the performance of commercial transport, whe would have waited for what she needed. So, basically, she was a stupid twit for asking something she didn’t need, then an even more stupid twit for not obtaining what she asked for.
You know, I have always had this secret dream of what my “other career” could be, and for the longest time I have wanted to own a truck stop. I have it all planned out. I’d have the greatest showers, the nicest phone set-up (including phones at the table in the restaurant), great coffee, the sassiest, smartest waitresses who know how to keep an eye on a coffeecup, the best fricking country-fried steak you’ve ever thrown a lip over, food so good the locals like it, and truckers will drive an extra 100 miles to eat there, etc. I will also have smart aspiring writers as my cashiers, thanks for that addition.
I had forgotten about this fantasy for some time, until my husband and I stopped by a good one on a recent trip. So I told him this dream, AND HE LAUGHED. He grew up taking fancy vacations, flying everywhere, never camped, etc. He had never really BEEN in truckstops. ARGH! I could have smacked him right then and there.
In a similar vein, my college boyfriend had ripped a page out of GQ or some such magazine and kept it in his room for as long as I knew him. It said something about not being an prick to people in blue-collar or hourly jobs because your gucci-wearing ass depends on them. If you’re going to feel sneeringly superior to your auto mechanic, then will it be YOU fixing the brakes on your BMW next time? It was worded about 25X better than that, but the gist of it was something I never forgot. I know plenty of smart, bright, capable people who took atypical jobs in the service industry because they chose to. It’s damned hard to judge someone’s motivation, intelligence, or ability by the job they’re holding down. If only a few more people realized this.
http://www.customerssuck.com
Where I am a moderator end shameless self-promotion
Only you can’t swear there, but it’s still a GREAT place.
You are NOT alone…
And when you feel like telling customers off: http://www.thecomplaintstation.com
They HATE me over there…it’s great!
Since I’m nearing the end of my season, and customers are in short supply, I thought I’d come in here and blast ya to blow off some steam (bad day) but… uh… I think I must apologize for that which I chickened out of and discreetly exit the room.
I’m printing up pldennison’s note to self and duct-taping it to my monitor.
