For A Dollah' Fitty Less

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On the beautiful morning of Saturday June 23, 2012, I walked into my father's gas station, ready to start a twelve-hour shift. Being the "Indian guy," I feel that I have an obligation to reveal that many of my customers have trouble understanding me because of my heavy accent. On this particular day, I had such a customer.

As I was clocking in, a oversized woman walked to my register. I greeted her and we began this transaction.

"One pack of Newport One-Hundreds, please."

I grabbed her cigarettes and scanned them. Her bill was $5.54. As she looked at the price, she replied "Naw, honay, they is four-oh-five down the street. You need to match that price, sweety." The first thing that I thought was no way in hell Newports were $4.05 down the street. I told her that we wouldn't be able to offer her that price. And that's when the confrontation began. "All y'all Indians da' same. Y'all cheap and be ripping us folks off, and where's yo' manager?" I told her that I was the manager on duty and she continued screaming.

After a few minutes, she threw a ten-dollar bill at me. I gave her the change back and tried to apologize for the inconvenience. She quickly left. Or so I thought.

After about twenty minutes, she came back and asked me where the bathroom was. I pointed her to the bathroom and she went in. As a storm of customers came in, I didn't see her for about 15 to 20 minutes. After another 15 minutes passed, I decided to knock on the door and see if she was still in there. The door was open. The decision to open the door was one of the more poor ones that I have made in my life. As I turned the light on, my innocence was taken from me.

She drew smiley faces with her poop all over the walls. The mirror was completely brown. There was poop all over the toilet seat. There was poop on the toilet paper dispenser. How one person could produce so much poop is still a mystery to me. I screamed so loudly that I can still taste the fumes from her poop in my lungs today.

I quickly exited the bathroom and called the police. They came a few minutes later and a big Officer Wiggums-looking man walked into my gas station. Before I had a chance to say a word, he alerted to his dispatcher that he was on the scene. His first words to me were, "So someone shit in your refrigerator?"

What a dumbass, I thought to myself. "NO," I replied, "in the bathroom, man." His next words were the ones that told me this man was in the movie Super Troopers:

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do in the bathroom?" Ah, fuck my life. I didn't say a word. I just walked him over to the crime scene.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." He put his shirt over his nose and started taking pictures of the bathroom. He even pointed out an area next to the toilet where the culprit left about a foot of poop. After he finished his report, he told me he would be back later to check the security cameras. I closed down the gas station and headed to local Menards to rent a high-pressure washer. I even bought a surgical mask to alleviate the stench.

I returned to the gas station and opened the bathroom door. I stood about 15 feet away and started washing. Needless to say, I was in there for about an hour before I could reopen the gas station. The police officer also did not return that day, and I realized that no action was going to be taken. My life has not been the same since yesterday. I might visit the therapist later on this week.

The poop bandit remains on the loose.

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8 Comments on "For A Dollah' Fitty Less"

ChrisM's picture
l 100+ points

You should keep one special pack of each brand, with a single cigarette inside packed with gunpowder. Save those for the unruly customers.

The ChrisM virus is incompatible with your current operating system. Your system will now be rebooted into DOS and return to the virus.

daphne's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardSite AdminComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatore 6000+ points

I am on the fence about this story.

.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatorf 5000+ points

Alas, revenge is the most expensive endeavor in which we humans engage and it has the smallest return. I am a firm believer in karma and feel assured that the perpetrator of this deed will eventually rue the day they "got even" for this perceived slight. Perhaps it will be in the next life when she is reincarnated as a pin worm in Rosie O'Doughnut's asshole or perhaps as an even lower form of life, if one exists.

Om mani padme hum

If I had two faces do you think I'd be wearing this one?

Deja Poo's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorj 1000+ points

The karma is already there, Chief. Apu sells cancer sticks and Bertha smokes'em. Apu gouges his customers, Bertha decorates his bathroom.

Still, if this guy had been selling crack instead of cigarettes, we might be applauding Bertha.

My advice to Apu is to get out of the business of selling poison. If you don't sell the drugs, you will have fewer drug addicts frequenting your establishment.

and keep a power washer handy always. You never know when a power washer may come in handy.

Yo quiero Taco Bell.

runninggrrl2's picture
Comment Quality Moderatork 500+ points

Hey, at least you called the cops so someone else could see that poop vandalism. That is fucking nasty.

An apple a day keeps the ExLax away!

daphne's picture
PoopReport of the Year AwardSite AdminComment Content ModeratorComment Quality Moderatore 6000+ points

I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we are supposed to believe that there is a convenience store in the our country that does not have a security camera posted by the register.

.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

Anonymous's picture

The story rings true to me even though the Officer Wiggums reference makes me think it could be a Simpson's scat fantasy piece, (Apu = "a poo"?). The dialogue about "y'all Indians be cheap" seemed realistic and in sync with the request for a mentholated brand.

Anonymous's picture

"The dialogue about "y'all Indians be cheap" seemed realistic and in sync with the request for a mentholated brand."

Yes, when people make racist jokes they are usually internally consistent about them. so that's hardly proof the story is real.

"I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we are supposed to believe that there is a convenience store in the our country that does not have a security camera posted by the register."

This is no reason to believe the story is fake. The convenience store I worked for, this was ten years ago but I doubt standards have changed that much in that time, had a camera with no film in it. Just a monitor above the registers to make people think that they were being filmed.

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