The high price of saving a dollar

Let me just say this: Some people are just mean and hateful. It's sad when "paying it forward" comes down to hatred breeding hatred, but that the only conclusion I can come to after an incident today where I had the unfortunate luck of being the straw that broke the camel's back for the gas station clerk.

I drove out of my way to the nearby Irving gas station to save a little bit of money, $5 and change, to be exact. For some, $5 is not much. But for me, it goes a long way, especially in our failing economic times. So, I shop at the grocery store where .20 is earned for every $100 spent, which can be redeemed at this gas station within a 2-week period. If I can purchase gasoline for $1.69/gal instead of $1.89/gal, then I will frequent the location that gives me more for my dollar.

When the store initially started this program, you were required to take your coupons into the store after pumping gas to be reimbursed for the savings you earned. It was a slight inconvenience, but nonetheless, something anybody did who wanted to save as much as they could on gas. This was started when the gasoline prices met or exceeded the $5 mark, so filling your gas tank to walk away with $10+ softened the blow considerably. Well, the gas prices gradually came down and have now steadied somewhat, and in that time, the process for getting reimbursed was improved. If you were like me and used a debit card to purchase gas, you could simply insert your Rewards Card at the pump and have the savings deducted immediately rather than have to go inside to get your due change.

So, back to today. The gas gauge was hovering near empty, and after I dropped Jeffrey off at preschool, I drove to the gas station. I used my debit card, but was not prompted like I usually was to insert my Rewards card to take advantage of my savings. I noticed a sign there that indicated one needed to go inside AFTER fueling to get reimbursed. I filled the tank and proceeded inside to finish my transaction. Inconvenienced? You bet I was. The wind was blowing so hard that it felt like January, and I know the recent improvement worked much better than this old way, and if it was only a couple of dollars, I might just say to hell with it. But it was over $5 and for me, that would go a long way.

I walked inside the store and up to the counter. It was obvious why I was there, as I was holding my card out for the clerk to take. Now, pardon me for not skipping in gleefully with a huge grin on my face, because that certainly isn't a requirement for me to get refunded my savings, especially when I had to go out of my way to get it. Likewise, I don't expect the clerk to be extra cheerful, but I do expect a certain amount of respect and courtesy. I did not get that from this clerk. He looked at me and maybe because I didn't have that cheerful grin on my face, asked with disgust, "What?" As if it wasn't evident to him why I was there. I was put out a bit, and now this guy's obvious ignorance didn't improve my mood, but perhaps he was already having a bad day, as we all do, so I simply stated that the sign outside said I needed to come in here to get reimbursed.

Well. Apparently that is when the camel's back broke because I unknowingly hit a nerve with him and he proceeded to show me either how much of a bad day he was having or just how hateful he could be. Let's say it was both. "Look, miss," he said to me, "I don't need any attitude from you. I get enough attitude and all you have to do is ask what you need. You're the worst ones, you Reward savings people." He practically spit out the words, categorizing me among the most despicable kind of people he has ever had to deal with. "You need to bring in your receipt and then you can get your change back," he continued. "You're the worst ones," he repeated, shaking his head in disgust.

"Do I need to go back out and get my receipt?" I asked him. I was hoping he said I would because I was thinking at that point that taking his verbal abuse wasn't worth the $5 and I'd just leave without it.

"Which pump were you on? Number 4?" He takes my card and proceeds to print out my receipt. I, of course, am standing there practically reeling from his accusations, but I'm too stunned to speak and figure I'm better off just keeping my mouth shut, getting the business over with, and getting out of there. I already knew I would never be back again. But maybe he wanted to ensure for good measure that I wouldn't patronize that store again because he proceeded to berate me even more, talking 'out loud' to himself. "I swear, you're the worst ones with the attitudes, you people. The worst ones."

Yessir, got that message loud and clear just a moment ago, but hell, the knife you are wielding is sharp and long, so you just keep right on pushing it in further. Because I'm just the worst of the bunch, so I surely deserve your wrath.

I nearly turned on my heel and walked out then, but I held my ground. Besides, he seemed like the type of guy who would pocket my money and I wasn't going to give him the opportunity. No, I waited, biting my tongue so I wouldn't show him the attitude about which he spoke or dare stoop to his pathetic level. Excuse me, but WHO is it that has the attitude here?

Another clerk stepped behind the counter, just as another customer was approaching the counter. "Can I help you?" the clerk asked the man.

"Yeah, I'm just wondering about the Rewards thing because I can't enter my card and you used to be able to do it right at the pump now," he said.

"Right, we just recently upgraded our system and haven't set that part up yet so you have to do it the old way," the clerk replied.

Oh. Well that's a logical explanation. It's a relief to know it's just a temporary problem that will soon be corrected. Although for me at that point, it was a moot point. Still, why couldn't I get this clerk instead of Mr. I-Hate-My-Job-And-All-You-People-Too? And why couldn't I tell this clerk off, knowing he was way out of line? I didn't deserve that kind of service. I didn't approach him with a smile, but I didn't approach him complaining about anything, either. He passes my card and receipt across the counter, gets my change, and hands it over, saying nothing. I summoned up the strength to thank him, turned, and left. And by the time I was back in the van, I had broken and started to cry. And then I cried more because I was furious at myself for letting this guy get to me.

I drove out of the station with a full tank of gas and an empty heart of faith. I drove to church and prayed for his troubled soul and vented to Trish and Sr. J. and told them how mean and hateful people can be and how this jerk ruined my day and stole my gratitude at having saved a little bit of money. I had a cup of tea and we talked about other things because I didn't care to waste my breath on the event any longer and would only be reminded of the horrible incident it turned out to be every single time I got in my van until I had to fill up my gas tank again.

Let me just say this as well: I think I'm going to try a new supermarket this week.