My Adventures as a Gas Station Cashier Continue

I've had it all... coffee spills, leaky coolers, frozen coffee machines, car accidents, drive offs, ignorant customers, fun customers, LOONEY customers (refer to a previous post 'Oh Gino'). Drama ensues, yelling, laughing, crying. There's been coworking romances, customer/cashier arguments, jigga jigga lottery dances, paid tabs and years old tabs left unpaid, and I've even gotten a marriage proposal. Ah, the refreshing life of one gas station employee.

One meets many interesting characters in the game of life while working at a service center. I enjoy every minute of it. OK, I'm lying a little. Eh, I'm lying a lot. I actually do like working there when it's busy enough to have something to do, but I also like the small moments of time that you get to chat with a customer or two. I absolutely HATE when it's slow, and, with gass prices like this, it's slow often. I, however, only work 530-930AM. Most of this time is busy because of our Poland Spring account and all of the loyal customers that fuel up the cars on thier way to work in the morning, or need coffee to get going, or the landscapers who need all their mowers and trucks filled up. Every morning I see the same people at the same time. Huh, that kind of weirds me out, but as long as I don't have specific times and mannerisms from these customers, I should be fine (long story, if you don't know it, then disregard last sentence).

Pattie comes in every morning to buy 2 twenty ounce sodas, two take five quick picks, a take five ticket that has a 2 and a 15 in it, a quick pick on the nights game, a bag of tgifridays chips, and if she's won money on a scratch off, she'll get a pick 10 and more scratch offs. Today she told me to do a jigga jigga dance so she'd win money. Most of the time I'd roll my eyes and politely say, "maybe next time," but I did the dance today. Haha, she won four dollars. Hey, my booty shakin' is worth something.

Foot comes in everyday and buys two papers, two medium coffees, a hard roll, and a bagel. About every other day he gets gas. He comes in, puts the papers on the counter, gets his coffee, comes back and holds his coffee in the air (one in each hand so I can see them--just like every other day--hey, maybe he thinks I've forgotten after two years) and says, "I'm going to finish at the pump." He goes outside with his coffees, comes back in and purchases his stuff. He talks a lot too. We don't enjoy this. Last week he stated, "God, you really are cute. I wish you were 15." Julie and I were horrified, but Tina thought that maybe he meant something along the lines of being in the age group in order to be girlfriend material for his son. Makes sense, and makes him seem a little less creepy. I'm going to stick with that explanation.

There are so many people that come in every day. I think I'll make a list tomorrow as they come in and continue this post tomorrow.