inCONVENIENT Stores

Why are they called Convenience Stores?? I don't think I was even BORN yet, when...or IF... these places were ever "convenient"!

I normally purchase gasoline only at 'PayAtThePump' locations, simply to AVOID having to go inside....stand in line...etc. Recently, I purchased my fuel, and when it asked if I wanted a receipt, I punched the YES key....the message read: SEE ATTENDANT. (Well that's just GREAT!)
Most people, I guess, would simply have said 'screw it', and gone on their merry way. ME...I'm a stickler for receipts! PLUS, much as I hated going IN for my receipt, I wanted an opportunity to advise them that their pump was out of receipt paper! Perhaps they were unaware. (I guess I thought maybe they'd send someone out with a new roll of paper and take care of the problem, so the next customer could get their receipt at the pump. Stupid ME!) All she said was, "yeah, we know". THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU CORRECTED THE PROBLEM???? (This puts me in mind of when I absolutely have no choice but to use their restrooms and they're still OUT OF PAPER!...but that's a whole other story!)
Knowing this was not going to be a quick 'in & out' situation, I moved my car away from the pump & parked next to the building. (I try to be considerate that way, so the guy behind me can get to the pump for HIS gas and be on his way. I know, weird, huh? I wish OTHER people would be as weird!) I stoically enter the store & take my place in line. Oh, good! Only three people ahead of me!
I'm usually a quiet person, suffering in silence when I would rather scream...LOUDLY...."ARE YOU A COMPLETE IDIOT??" I see two cashiers behind the counter. I do NOT see a 'Please Use Other Register' sign, so with just three people ahead of me...and two cashiers....this should go fairly quickly. I only need a gas receipt! How long can it take, right??
As I patiently wait my turn in line, I notice that Cashier # 2 (her name tag reads 'Brittney') is too busy restocking the overhead cigarette rack, to assist in checking the customers in line. (Maybe they have some sort of 'minimum-number-of-customers-standing-in-line' before they BOTH get in on the action?) Cashier # 1 (her name tag says, 'Tanniesha', but in my mind, I call her 'Miss Thang') You know the type...lots of cleavage, peeping midriff with shiny belly button ring, 3 inch nails in tri-color, hair piled up six inches high, in a 'do' that probably took hours to constuct, (HOW does she sleep??) one gold tooth, a tattoo of a rat or something on her neck, and a pierced eyebrow.
Miss Thang is apparently intellectually challenged in some way. 'Bubba' is at the counter wanting a pack of Marlboro Reds, and a lottery ticket. In his hand, he has 2 Dr. Pepper's and a candy bar to purchase. Miss Thang is having a hellava time trying to sort it all out. Lottery tickets must be rung seperately, and can only be purchased with cash. (but that looks like a credit card in his hand, oh my!) Well, Miss Thang had already rung up the total for the cig's, drinks, and candy bar, before Bubba remembered he still owed for his gas, and informs Miss Thang about his "$10 in gas on pump 4".
Rather than simply ring the gas as a separate purchase, Miss Thang is trying to void the entire transaction & start over. Bubba is 'jones'n' for a cigarette, and knowing he's forbidden by LAW to light up inside, he begins to tap his foot impatiently. Miss Thang, now beginning to get agitated herself, is punching every key on the register (which, by the way, is not easy with those 3" nails!) trying to void the transaction, but only succeeds in locking the register....which will now require a manager with a key, to unlock! AND, OF COURSE, THERE'S NO MANAGER ON SITE!! Bubba is NOT happy! OK, here we go!! Register 1 is now hosed up & SHUT DOWN!
In a huff, now, Brittney (her name tag should actually read: 'Bitch-ney') is trying to pick up the slack. Each of us in line can see that she is NOT happy about having to actually DO her job, and she proves it to us with a hateful-sounding, "Kin I hep someone?!"....not to be deterred, Bubba slides on over to register two and starts all over. By now, the candy bar has been consumed, but far be it from ME to rat him out! I really hate that little Brittney feels so PUT OUT because we expect her to do her job, but she just needs to GET OVER IT!! I'm asking myself & the 'powers that be', "How can THIS person have a job and I don't??!"
FINALLY, it's my turn!!!! Yeah, yee-haw, yippee, and all those other 'Y' words!! I calmly step up to the counter & ask if I can "please have a receipt for $31.75 in gas on pump six?" Brittney asks "Are you the green Ford Escort?" Not able to resist an opening like that, I reply "Do I LOOK like a green Ford Escort?" Not at all amused, Brittney continues to tell me that "pump six is only showing $8.50 in gas." Seeing as how poor Brittney has no sense of humor, (or sense of any kind I'm guessing) I kindly advise her that "I'm driving the blue Trailblazer parked to the right of the door! You'll need to back up about three customers to find my purchase." I'm almost able to see my imminent exit from this revolting place!
Just about that time, Brittney's cell phone rings. Completely ignoring me at the counter, she proceeds to get into a long-winded conversation with someone on the other end of the call who must be the babysitter. Brittney says to 'put him on the phone!'.....and using her 'Mommy voice', begins to give some poor kid holy hell, with threats of what she's gonna do to him when she gets home. As her eyes begin to glaze over, I can tell she is now completely "in the zone". I no longer exist in her world. She's literally forgotten I'm standing there, waiting on a receipt. I have become invisible! Gr-r-r-r-r!!!!
With hope in my heart, and a smile on my face, I turn to Miss Thang. Before I can even open my mouth, she throws both lavishly adorned hands up in the air, as if to ward me off, commenting that she "don't know nuthin' 'bout how'da get no re-seet!" (I'm having flashbacks to 'Gone With The Wind'...I don't know nuthin' bout birthin' no babies Miz Scarlett!!)
Pissed off beyond belief, I leave the store with NO receipt. I've just traded 15 mins. of my life for this crap! It was NOT a good exchange. As I'm leaving, I see a sign with a toll free number I can call to 'Tell Us How We're Doing'. I angrily punch the ten digit number into my phone. After a couple of rings....someone in Pakistan or India or B.F.E. answers, "Tink you for calling, and ow may vee elp yoo? Vaat is yor neem, pleece?"
Defeated, deflated, and disgusted, I simply hang up and drive myself home. This sort of convenience is physically and emotionally exhausting!
Oh, if only I still drank beer!!  A couple of cold ones would sure help take the edge off!