I really hate old people sometimes.
This old man came in the other day yelling about our air machine.
Old Fart: "Is there something wrong with your air machine? Because it's supposed to last three minutes and it sure as hell didn't because I didn't have time to fill up my tires."
Inwardly I rolled my eyes. This guy was so old it probably took him three minutes to just bend down.
Me: No, I haven't heard anybody tell us anything was wrong with it.
So instead of responding to me, he turns to my mom, who just happened to be visiting at the time.
Old Fart: You need to fix your air machine. Air used to be free here and now you charge 75 cents!!!
Me: That's because people kept breaking the machine so we hired a company that provides the air now. We don't have anything to do with it.
Well this guy wasn't going to listen to anything. He kept yelling at my mom, who DOESN'T EVEN WORK THERE.
Me: Do you want me to give you 75 cents of my own money to put into the machine?
I figured the asshole would say no.
Old Fart: Yes.
So I dug into my purse, found 75 cents and told him to follow me outside. He started back up with his complaining.
Old Fart: You know, in my day air didn't cost anything and we could fill our tires up as much as we wanted.
I put the 75 cents into the machine and turned to him. "You know what? I put my own money in here so you'd stop complaining, so please, just fill up your tires and leave," I said as I stormed away.
I don't get what part of "We have nothing to do with the air machine" he didn't understand. And why was he yelling at my mom? He's lucky I didn't punch him in his wrinkly old ball sack.