So pretty much all of the work we were supposed to do during our shift had been done and we were just behind the registers chatting and hanging out and had not had a customer in well over an hour at this point when out of nowhere, this dude walks in the store and right up to the register where I happened to be standing manning the register when he whips out a pistol and says “give me the money.” So I open the register and hand him all the cash when he points at the shutdown register and says “that one too.” So I go over to do it but this was the ’80s as I mentioned and this was a gigantic register that took a bit of time to warm up and run through its boot-up routine and that is out of my control and dude starts getting nervous and I’ll never forget, he aimed that gun right at me and says “hurry up or I’ll blast ya.”
I’m assuming you mean as a person who is there to get gas but I’m going to tell of an experience I had as a person who worked at a gas station. It was 1988 and I was 18 years old and working at a Race Track Store in Mesquite, Tx. This is no ordinary gas station. We are talking full-on convenience store with all the amenities including a deli and even a video store in those days. So it’s one of those large 20+ gas pump beasts that you find all over Texas and I’m working the overnight shift with this chick we’ll call Sherry to protect the innocent…lol! Not really, that was her name…lol! Anyway, this one night (03:00ish) Sherry and I are behind the counter which was slightly raised in the back where we stood so that we could reach the top of the massive cigarette racks that ran from the ceiling and across the width of the register area.