confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

Kids are hilarious. They say funny things that make us adults laugh, not because what they say is neccessarily funny, but the manner and context in which they say it, topped with the undeniable kid-innocence that we all had back in the day of Cabbage Patch Kids (my beloved Jobina Ruth!) and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and wooden toys and metal playgrounds and walking to school uphill both ways barefoot in the snow...
Anyway, there are a lot of kids we know here by name...I have a silly habit of only asking the names of the awesome ones so my work life is full of awesome tiny friends.
Tonight 2 year old witty as all get out Liam came in with his dad and brother, Hayden (who is about 5), who Liam introduced to my mom and I. (My mom is the owner, for those of you who didn't know.) My mom misunderstood little Liam and thought Hayden's name was Caden (equally awesome name) and said "Hi Caden! Nice to meet you!"
Hayden replied, "Actually it's Hayden."
My mom apologized and gave a very motherly response of, "I'm sorry honey" as his dad chucked at how serious he was about correcting her. She carried on, "That's alright Hayden. Our name is the only thing that can't be taken away from us, so we have to be proud of the one we have."
Hayden proudly replied, "Yeah, except for Chad Johnson. He changed his last name to Ocho Cinco so he didn't want his old name, now his name is the same as his numbers. He's like 'hey everybody, call me Ocho Cinco it's Spanish for my number but now it's my name!' which is pretty weird."

His dad, my mom & I completely lost it! Between laughs I managed to say to Hayden, "You're completely right buddy!"

Man, I love little kids.

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

I love messing with drunk people. It's probably one of my favorite parts of the late night, almost closed up, few straggler customers, finish up cleaning and get excited to go home time of night.
After a long conversation about the floor and pint vs. 12oz cans of beer, and how I actually did carve those pumpkins on the counter, and no, he can't poke the owls eyes out just to see what it's like...

Drunk dude: "So like what do you do? You hang out? When are we hanging out? So like you work and then you hang out huh?"
Me: "Yes. I work and I hang out."
Drunk dude: "So like hang out with your boyfriend? Or what? your boyfriend?"
Me: "Yes. With my boyfriend."
Drunk dude: "Dude you're breaking my heart. You gotta boyfriend?" (grabs his chest like he's in pain.)
Me: "Are you sure I'm breaking your heart? ...because that's your right boob."

 BAHAHA!

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

There are times when I think that I've seen/heard/smelled/witnessed it all...but then I remember the exact reason why I have this blog - because I haven't. There's always something quirkier weirder funnier more stupid more dense more idiotic more gullible more jaw-dropping than I could ever imagine.

The other night while I was cleaning the men's bathroom, which is really a beloved chore of mineasdl;sadflkndsafoi....sorry about that, I was choking for a second... I noticed something in the bottom of the toilet. Usually it would've just been leftover poop that didn't get flushed or something else equally nasty, but this time it was shiny. What on earth, I thought to myself as I continued scrubbing along.
Suddenly, I saw it. It was a quarter. A million questions started racing through my head. How did it get there? Did someone poop that out? How long as it been there? Did it just fall out of someone's pocket? Why is it so shiny? Did that seriously come out of someone's butt? Why are men so freaking creepy? What the hell? Why why why why why is there a quarter in the bottom of the toilet?

I'm still confused. And a little baffled. And maybe slightly impressed. Maybe. But definitely, definitely confused.

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

I'm not really sure why you do it. There's not any reason for you to do it here, right in front of me, a line of people behind you. Tapping fingers on the counter to help your subtractions. 'Tis a silly thing. Please avoid this when you are in my line. I know it's exciting, but I promise promise promise it can wait. I may even be looking at you menacingly, but you still carry on with your number-moving. I suppose I may applaud your dedication as people behind you begin to shuffle and I even motion for you to slide over a bit so I can help the next person, but no, oh no, you carry on.
Why do you insist on balancing your checkbook at my counter?

So what if my applause was a slow clap? (and only in my head.) 


Thank you, come again soon.

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

Tonight some shocking and saddening news was tossed my way 'round about 10:08pm. Apparently Pierce Manufacturing is laying off over 100 employees, and starting tomorrow my (very) regular 10pm customer friend is going to be laid off for an uncertain amount of time. As I pondered the cuteness of him actually taking the time to share this information with me, we discussed how strange and sucky it's going to be not to see one another every evening and his future plans to live off of unemployment and my future plans to sell gas until my hair turns grey (or until I get a job in my field). As he walked out the door and wished me a good night and said he'd see me tomorrow, I knew instantly what I had to do.

Yep. I baked him cookies. I mean, let's be honest...
who doesn't want you're-getting-laid-off-cookies from the girl at the gas station!?!?

Exactly.
So I gathered supplies and dug out the cookbook my mom made for me last Christmas which houses my (McGuyvered) cookie recipes. No, I won't give you the recipes. They are secret. I will tell you that I made coffee cookies (to the left, awaiting their turn in the oven) and double chocolate chip cookies and then put a little twist on my mint double chocolate chip cookies...

Yes. Yes. Yes, you're seeing that right, they're filled with chocolate. Dripping, oozing, melty, delicious chocolate. They are minty and fresh like a thin mint, but oh no, these suckers would never ever be called thin. You can just go ahead and drool for a minute.                                                 

I ate this one to test it out and needed a full glass of water to be able to breath again. Monster cookie of delicious chocolately goodness, welcome to my tummy.

So anyhow these wonder-cookies will be delivered tomorrow night, the last night that 10pm will mean a guaranteed sale complete with smiles and stupid laughs.

Of course I'll be sharing the rest of the batches of cookies with my other favorite customers:(aforementioned) Heath, Kevin Smith (really! but ok... not the famous one), Rick & Kathy, Dave, my fellow employees and maybe you!

(EDIT: Cookie delivering went uproariously well. He was delighted and in a bit of shock that I baked cookies for him. It was pretty much the cutest thing ever. After I convinced him that I did indeed make cookies for him by handing him a bag full of delightful mounds of awesome he got a little silly.

Me: Do you like coffee?

Him: Whattt? Yeah! Yes. 

Me: These are coffee cookies. And these are double choc. And these are mint double choc with choc chunks inside...

Him: What! No way. Woahhhh! I'm going to be shaking from a sugar high all night tonight.

Me: It's okay because these cookies are amazing. You'll see.

Him: I can't....believe................for me? 

Me: Yes. 

His regular smiley demeanor was especially smiley tonight. I love that. I'm just bubbling along tonight...how fun!)

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.


tears. (teerz) noun. -fluid appearing in or flowing from the eye as result of emotion; grief, sorrow.
They rarely fall from my eyes, but sometimes a girl just needs a good cry. This one was inflicted by a combination of the following: irritability, the price of chocolate, pen throwing, law-abiding-ness, other women's pms, the cost of gas, other woman's crappy day.
I go in waves at the store, there will be months that go by that I thoroughly enjoy work and am able to tolerate customers and treat them amicably but every once in awhile I just feel over-loaded and it seems that if I have to fake nice for one more customer that I will spontaneously combust (which is pretty much the worst possible thing at a gas station).
I get tapped out of nice. Out of being cordial. Out of being welcoming and homey. Out of being a little ray in sunshine in someone's day. Rude customers come and go...they bum me out for a few minutes but I'll get over it as the night moves on.
For the first time the other night, a rude woman left with her goods she complained and grumbled and threw pens (at me!?!) over and I felt myself welling up, so I walked in the back room, turned on the buzzer for the door, and started to cry. Those emotional-girl thoughts started racing though my head..."I don't deserve to be treated like that!" "I cannot believe how rude some people are!" "Jeez I'm like the nicest person ever and I'm freaking crying!" "Why am I crying...I'm such a nerd." "I AM SO LAME NOBODY LIKES ME!" "Oh my gosh nobody likes me I'm never going to get married!" ....and on and on and on. Luckily nobody came in during my dramatic tear escapade, but I quickly realized it was nearing 10pm. Shortly after ten bells walks in a great customer friend dude guy who offered to beat up the woman who hurt my feelings and made me cry. Life was alright after that. 

Seriously. Don't forget we're not robots. We have feelings.

confessions of a...

gas station attendant.

hot dog buns v. brat buns: the great debate.

Last week I had 3 customers leave without buying anything because we don't sell brat buns even though we had a shelf full of fresh and cheap hot dog buns.
I do not understand this kind of dedication to a meal component. To be fair, brats are much better on actual brat buns, but if you've already taken the time to drive to a store and arrive at that one store and they offer a very similar product to what you're looking for, why wouldn't you just buy that stand-in product instead of driving to another (and maybe yet another) store to find your beloved brat buns?
I'm puzzled. I feel I cannot offer any more insight on this issue, so I'd like to leave it up to you, the reader, to give your insight/feelings/opinions on the great debate.

Thank you in advance.