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Vasaris, the Fuzzy Dragon
vasaris
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March 2014
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Vasaris, the Fuzzy Dragon [userpic]
My Coworkers scare me

I was reminded today of an incident at work that proves that gas fumes really do cause IQs to drop. Only those brave few with immunity should be allowed to work in a gas station.

Really.

As I've noted before, the average person is often an idiot, as evidenced by the general inability to read signs or follow directions. Sometimes this idiocy is proven by the almost incomprehensible ability to drive away from the pump while the nozzle is still in the tank and the hose thus attached to the car.

It's utterly mind-boggling.

That, however, is not the point of the story.

When confronted with such a minor catastrophe a couple of weeks ago, two of my co-workers discovered that a) the hoses are designed for just such a thing in mind and b) together they did not have the candlepower to deal with the problem, much less individually.

Y'see, the hoses are designed to break off if tugged on too hard, say with a vehicle pulling out at a couple of MPH. The driver of the car noticed this immediately, stopped the vehicle and reported the incident to the primary till cashier (sometimes I really, really wish we had shift managers, which presumably would require people in possession of clues.) Said cashier takes the hose and sends the customer on his way. He fails to write up an accident report, but as no real damage was done -- the hoses are also designed to be put back on, after all -- I suppose that's not a sin.

He then goes out to try and put the hose back up. The parts you have to join together are about six feet up in the air. He's about five-six, so he was able to *almost* shove the hose back in place, but not quite. He stares at it for a while and then coils the hose up to wait for someone in possession of more than half a brain to show up.

Namely, me.

I arrive at work, freshly showered and ready for the day. It's my Thursday and I'm stoked because my step-sister and I are going to take my mom out for her birthday on my day off.

I walk into mayhem. The secondary cashier is having a problem with the till -- this is nothing new, because she is only moderately less tech-illiterate than our most senior (and oldest) cashier. The wail starts almost from the moment I hit the door "Heeeeellllllp Meeeeee!"

There are perhaps ten people in line and the pumps are loaded. Now is not the time for her to strike out with the till. I walk over, recognize the problem, and hit the "Error Correct" button for her only to have the leaving cashier explain that the hose for #7 midgrade was pulled off and that he wasn't able to fix it.

I blink. I stare. I note that the natives are getting restless and that someone just pulled up to pump 7, only to pull away and look for another pump that actually has a hose for midgrade.

"Okay. Lemme go get a look at that hose." I've never reattatched one, but I know that it's possible. I head down the counter looking for the stepladder.

"But you're shorter than I am, and I wasn't able to get it reattached! You won't be able to either."

My hand closes on the top of the stepladder and I just barely control the urge to twitch violently. I am 5'4". If my boss is more than 5'2" I'd be shocked out of my mind.

My boss changes hoses with a fair amount of frequency. I turn and stare at my co-worker.

"Did you try standing on the stepladder?"

"Er. No?"

"Right. I'll be right back in. Why don't you finish counting your tills?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

And in the background I can hear the wind-up for "IIIIII'm cooooonnnnnnnnnnfused! HELP!"

Both of these employees are a generation to a generation and a half older than I am.

Isn't common sense supposed to increase with age?

Current Mood: amusedamused