Plenty of people have horror stories about working in retail.

But this story might take the cake… and hold it hostage.

Imagine showing up for your first day of work, but the person who is supposed to train you decides to quit and walks out on the spot. How would you handle this situation with no other employees in the store and no way to contact the boss?

Let’s see how this former gas station employee handled it.

That Time I Accidentally Took A Whole Convenience Store Hostage

This is the most exciting TFR story I’ve got.

This was back in… I want to say 2005? Before the proliferation of smartphones, etc. It’s about the time I worked at a gas station/convenience store for one whole day and ended up as a Manager and a District Manager’s worst nightmare.

It started out okay.

I’d taken the job not two days before and was told to show up at 7am on a monday for training.

No big deal, right?

The Manager (TM) certainly seemed stable enough at the time, but I suppose that’s what they say about all the crazies.

So. I show up at 7am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to get to work. I’m immediately introduced to the Young Lady (YL) who’s been tasked with training me by TM.

Passing the buck and the cash register isn’t even open.

TM spends the first twenty minutes of my shift not training me, but ranting and rambling about how she just worked a double graveyard and how she’s bushed, and how this place just sucks her dry… you get the idea.

Then she reiterates that YL’s going to be with me all day, training me step by step, and is then gone in a puff of smoke. Gone home to get some much-deserved sleep. Leaves her home number on a scrap of paper behind the counter: “In Case Of Emergencies Only.”

Sensible enough.

The work day didn’t go as expected.

So we get down to business. YL’s shocked that I’m already somewhat register- and computer-literate, and so takes the opportunity to abandon me in the backroom doing a few hours of computer training that I gather is supposed to encompass the entirety of my day.

When I finish my computer training, I step out into the main store area to be relieved of duty.

YL instead informs me that we’re now going to do some hands-on training.

…Weird… but fine… I guess… I mean, I’m not going to scoff at a few extra hours on my paycheck, so whatever.

Let’s do some hands on work.

Gettin’ your hands dirty on day one. What could go wrong? (Hint: Everything?)

The hands-on work goes on for about an hour and a half (bringing my day to about four and a half hours at this point?), until YL pulls me aside and announces, with a beaming  grin on her face:

YL: You know what? I think, yeah. I think screw this place.

CIB: Screw this place?

YL: Yeah, man, screw it. It’s garbage anyway. Screw everything. I quit.

CIB: Like in two weeks?

YL: Like, I mean, like now.

CIB: …what?

What, indeed. Is she serious?

With that, she tears off her smock, lights a cigarette, and walks out of the joint, leaving me to mind the store alone.

I don’t know how to do cash drops, I don’t know how to do most of this crap. I’ve been here for four hours tops.

You must be kidding me.

Not kidding. What will OP do?

YL locks the door to the back room, shoves the key underneath the door, and is gone forever.

So, like the nice young man I am, I call TM’s emergency number.

The phone rings and rings and rings for maybe two minutes straight before she finally answers, mid-snore, with a befuddled

TM: …whuzzah?

The only rational response. How’s TM gonna deal?

I promptly explain the situation to her and tell her that I need help.

She tells me to hold tight, and that she’s going to call her Assistant Manager (AM) to come and help.

You know where this is going.

AM never comes. I’m waiting for another two hours, and AM never shows up.

I call TM back. Same deal. Two minutes of continuous ringing. She promises something else.

Hangs up on me.

Not cool.

We go through this process four more times over the course of two more hours, when the next person on-shift is due to show up anyway.

He never shows.

Naturally. So I call TM until she finally just takes her phone off the hook so I can’t call her anymore.

This is the part of the story where I start to freak out.

I have no other numbers. I know no one else who works here.

Keep calm and keep freaking out, I say.

I am alone. No way to clock out, no way to hide, no way to lock the doors, nothing. Just work. Only work. Forever and ever and ever and ever. I can see that this is how I die, I’m sure of it.

I’m in a really crappy, boring version of Final Destination.

At this point, I feel the need to call out the dudes who ran the tattoo shop across the street. They’d been coming in for Cokes and energy drinks and such throughout the day, and had taken a keen interest in my well-being.

Thank goodness, inky saviors. But can they help OP escape?

They were pretty “up” on the situation, and kept me reasonably calm throughout the day, They noticed that I was starting to freak out. Asked me what the situation was.

I explained.

Just like that, these guys jump into action: they bring me their phonebook with all the numbers of the other stores in the area circled, and they go to the local taco cart and get me a plate of tacos and a Coke “to keep my strength up.”

I’m not into dudes, but I considered asking these guys to marry me then and there.

Trauma bonds go a long way. How’s OP gonna have the gas to keep going.

Fueled by tacos and sheer, unadulterated panic, I start making calls.

Other stores are shocked by what’s happened, but don’t have anyone to spare. They’ve got no one.

But.

One of them gives me the District Manager’s (DM) home number.

Bingo. I explained the situation to him, and listened as he went from perfectly congenial to absolutely terrified.

This was the breaking point.

He tells me:

DM: I’m coming down there to personally relieve you from your shift…

But then he says the perfect combination of words to set me off:

DM: …but I’m going to need about an hour and a half. Is that okay?

Welcome to my breaking point. I begin to shout and shout and shout.

CIB: No, that is not alright. Tell you what, DM – either you get down here in half an hour, or I am going to open the cash registers, the safe, turn the gas pumps on unlimited run and go home. Is that what you want?? FREE GAS AND FREE MONEY FOR EVERYONE WHO COMES INTO THE STORE UNTIL THERE’S NO MORE MONEY! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!

Fine time to lose your cool, if ever there was one. Let’s hope DM rises to the occasion.

DM: …I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

I now see what has happened: I have officially been taken hostage by this store, and have taken it hostage in return. I am now the crazy person in the situation. I’m the movie bad guy. I’m the one making demands.

But you know what? He got there in fifteen minutes flat.

Made up some time.

And you know what? He was very nice, all said and told. He apologized profusely, even helped me actually kick in the locked backroom door so I could clock out all proper-like. It’s 10:30pm.

Finally.

But then TM, in her pajamas, eyes bloodshot and wild, murderous and back from the dead like the last bad guy in Die Hard, comes storming into the store, screaming at DM, who had apparently gotten her to answer her phone during his trip over:

TM: DM, how freaking dare you tell me how to run my store, I swear you’ve been telling me what to do for too long now and I am telling you for the last time–

DM turns to me as TM is shrieking, and he says something that makes me start laughing like I’m psychotic.

I’d be psychotic after a day like that.

DM: Go home, CIB. I’ve got this.

Shoot, you don’t have to tell me twice, amigo. I’m gone. When I get to the door, finally, he calls after me and says:

DM: I really hope this doesn’t affect your future with the company.

I never went back.

Two quitters, one day.

Let’s see how the comments on Reddit respond to this harrowing tale.

One person is curious about the customer response…

Another poster says, SAME BRO.

This user says, bad time, great story.

This commenter is speechless. Well, almost.

Another person says thank goodness for tacos!

This is a hold-up… I quit.

If you liked that post, check out this story about a customer who insists that their credit card works, and finds out that isn’t the case.