My shift at the fuel center where I was working was ending soon, and I couldn’t have been happier. I was so ready to get out of there!

A customer walked up to the window of the kiosk. I stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass, ready to help him.

How can I help you today? I asked through the intercom system.

His reply was garbled, but I did understand him to say twenty dollars. He opened the glass over the drawer and put something inside.

What pump are you on, sir? I asked.

He replied, Twenty dollars! The look on his face and the tone of his voice told me he was already agitated.

Yes, sir, I said. And what pump are you on?

I heard him open the Plexiglass over the drawer roughly and grab whatever he’d put in earlier. The whole drawer rattled. He held up his $20 bill to the window and shook it while yelling twenty dollars! His whole face contorted. He looked like a madman. He was obviously really angry.

I leaned down and put my mouth right next to the intercom. I spoke slowly and (I hoped) clearly.

Yes, sir, but I need to know what pump you’re on.

Oh, sorry, he said as his face relaxed. He looked like a totally different person. He put the money back in the drawer and said in a normal tone of voice, Pump 10.

I took his $20 bill from the drawer and sent him on his way to get his fuel from pump 10.