Friday, April 4, 2008

Gassholes!

I'm fresh from a trip to my weekly wallet raping, A.K.A. refueling my vehicle. There's a gas station right up the street from my job that I've frequented especially this past week. I pulled up to pump 1, and at most stations, if they wish for you to pay cash up front, there's usually a sign posted to do so.

I stood there for 7 minutes repeatedly flipping the gas pump on and off so that I may pump my gas, to no avail. I then waited in line for 3 minutes and asked for pump 1 to be turned on. He said, "I'm sorry. It's very busy and we've had drive-offs and I don't have a lot of customer confidence right now." I said, I completely understand that, but why don't you have a sign posted. He said again, "I've had drive-offs, I'm sorry." I said, I WORK NEXT DOOR! I've bought gas and candy bars from here several times. Here's my name tag! Meanwhile, people next to me are paying for gas and other Quickie Mart staples, but for some odd reason, I have to pay for my gas upfront. I tried not to sweat it, handed the man $30 and tried to k.i.m. (keep it moving)

Now people, I TRIED! I TRIED SO HARD, to be the bigger man, swallow my pride and get my gas and be on my merry way, but I couldn't. I stopped just short of the door, waited in line for another 5 minutes and promptly asked for my refund. He said, "I don't understand." I told him that obviously he's having a bad day with customers, and I would just like to come back when you're having a better day. He once again feigned understanding.

"What do you mean bad day?", he said.

"Sir, I would just like my money back." I said.

"Is there something wrong with the pump?"

"No, I just wish to get my gas elsewhere, since I have to pay upfront for some reason."

"You're being very unfair. You're showing your name tag as if I should recognize you!"

(Now mind you, I dress very classic and old school, complete with a derby. At this point I had bought candy and gum there 2 days straight.) I demanded my money and finally he relented.

His gas pumping underling followed me to my car and apologized, but the damage was already done.

Now mind you, I make a conscience effort everyday as an African-American to not play the race card. But when you get to a point when you're crossing all the other reasons for this disservice in your mind, you get to a point where the color of your skin is all you have left. That's quite sad in a world where most people don't believe that discrimination no longer exists, and is nothing more than a figment of one's imagination. It's not the first, and won't be the last.

L8er

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