I was on my way to Il Duce’s house to feed his wife’s cat and stopped at his corner gas station.
This gas station is pretty brain-dead to start, so I’ll explain that day’s event before I relate them to the quoted story, below. I only buy the highest octane possible (which I realize is of questionable utility, but let’s skip that for now). When my pump wouldn’t work, I went to talk to the teller, waited in line behind some other people asking idiotic questions and got a little irritated by having to listen to such stupidity.
(As an aside, idiots generally irritate me, but since I’m very tolerant, I do my best to steer clear of the masses of ding dongs in the world. This is my way of coping w/ them — they get to live on in their ignorance, and I don’t go postal; it’s a good system.)
When it was finally my turn to speak w/ the gas station attendant, a shining example of why people should have to pass breeding exams, I asked, “Is there something wrong w/ pump 7?”. She asked me, “What’s it doing?”
At this point, my first thought was, “Gas pumps only have one mission in life: to pump gas. If a customer is asking about a pump’s status, it’s probably because it’s not fulfilling it’s destiny. Why would she ask me something like that and not just assume that it’s not working properly? Why isn’t she already looking at her little status board/pumping control station to determine what the problem is?” Dumbfounded, I said, “It… isn’t…. pumping.”
“What octane are you trying to get?”
“93.”
“Oh. 93 doesn’t work on pump 7.”
WTF? You ALREADY knew that, and yet you had to ask me what was wrong with it? After a few smart words w/ her, I left w/o gas.
So on to the paranoia/identity theft portion of this post. Same gas station; rewind 3 months.
At was roughly 1am or so, after a great dinner and lots of laughter w/ Il Duce, I thought I’d tank up my sled. When the pump failed to dispense any fuel, I walked in after prompted to “PLEASE SEE CASHIER”. Fair enough, I guess — it’s late night. Maybe this is some kind of anti-theft measure.
“Why won’t the pump work?”, I asked.
“Oh. You have to give me your credit card.”
Hm. Not too unusual. After I handed it to her and waited expectantly for the return of my card, the teller told me that they have to hold on to my card while I pump.
“No. You don’t. Give me my card back. Goodbye.”
Identity Theft: Gas Station Attendant Busted For Re-Using Customers’ Credit Card Numbers:
A 23-year-old gas station attendant in Massachusetts has been charged with identity theft after a customer noticed that her card was used to make additional purchases a few hours after she’d been at the station. The attendant told his employers that the customer had come back to buy gift cards for her nephew, but police say the employee wrote down the card number and expiration date.
“The customers came in and evidently he took down their credit card number and expiration date,” said Jim McDonald, manager of the gas station. “He was working with another employee. When the other employee left at 9 p.m. he bought himself three prepaid debit cards and since he had the credit card number and expiration date, he could manually enter it.”
McDonald said Saumur bought one $100 card, and two $50 cards.
MacDork