Mobil Gas And Service Station

I love this place. Get gas, car washed, and they do a great job. Everyone that works there is always super cool. One of the guys actually remembers me by name, and we talk about what ever is going on that day. Good place to go, I always stop.

This place is terrible. This older guy employee is just so rude and inconsiderate. Never again Mobil.

Easy and convenient!

It’s convenient and on the right side of the street so I have to fill gas here every once in a while. They have the slowest gas pumps I’ve seen in life. The staff inside isn’t particularly nice either. They make a big deal about using their air pump, which by the way only works once in a blue moon.
Skip it if you can.

Nothing really special here, just your average gas station. They do have a constant price battle going on with the station across the street, so keep an eye out on prices.

At 9:50am, I pulled up to Pump 8. When I swiped my cc at the pump, the machine said, «Zip code invalid.» Um. Okay.
So I went inside to pay. As I was in a hurry, I decided to just get $ 20 for now. I told the old man at the counter, «$ 20 on 8,» and was about to swipe my card when he said, «ID first.» Um. Okay.
I gave him my ID. He stared at it for the longest time before saying, «Your credit card.» So I dutifully gave him my card. He glared at my ID and CC for a full minute before giving me my ID back and swiping my card himself. Um. Okay.
I signed my receipt and went back to the pump. And… nothing. No gas. I went back inside, and before I could even get a word out, he turned to me and said, «Push harder.» What does that even mean? I went back to the pump to try again. Still no gas. So I went BACK INSIDE, and, again, before I got in a word, he sighed loudly and walked outside. Um. Okay.
I followed him to my pump… and watched him push and shake the nozzle with such force that I almost asked him to be more careful. He couldn’t get it to work, so without a word to me, he just walked back inside, and I followed. He then went to the register, started pushing random buttons, and even I could deduce that the strange sounds from the register were ERROR alerts. Suddenly, he gave up, breezed past me, and walked through an «employees only» door. Um. Okay.
After about 5 minutes into the old man’s Houdini act, I realized I was alone in the store with one other guy who’d prepaid for gas (his pump didn’t work either), and one lady trying to buy a bottle of water. The old man came back out, and muttered to himself, «The computers are down.» Without even looking at me or the other customer who’d prepaid, he went to the register and rung up the lady with the water. Um. Okay.
The old man continued to jab at the register, and I realized that I’d been dealing with this for over fifteen minutes — and I would never make my 1030am appointment in time. So I timidly asked, «Can I just get a refund?» He ignored me. I asked again. He ignored me. I asked again, and this time, in the most irritated voice, he snapped, «The computers are down! I can’t do anything!» HE snapped at ME?! «Even the register?» «Yes!» «Then can you just write me a note, and I’ll come back later?» «No!» Then he went back in through the employee door. Um. Okay.
I considered just letting my $ 20 go and just filing a dispute with my CC company. But the old man had already wasted so much of my time, surely the issue would be resolved soon. When the came back out, he — to my absolute astonishment — OPENED THE REGISTER (the same one he told me was broken), took out $ 30 and gave it to the other waiting customer… and…closed the register. WHAT ABOUT ME?! I inched closer to the register, expecting a refund, too. But no. He wouldn’t even look at me!
Then, without warning, he starts walking to the back door again — and I yelled to his back, PISSED OFF at this point, «Listen to me! I NEED TO GO! It’s been HALF AN HOUR! CAN YOU JUST WRITE ME A NOTE?!» He just whizzed right by me without a response.
At this point, I broke down crying… out of sheer frustration. As I stood in the now empty store with tears dripping down my face, another customer came in and asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t even talk. After trying in vain to console me, the customer left… and the old man came back out… to jab the register some more. «Sir! Can you just write me a NOTE?!» Without warning, he opens the register, takes out a $ 20 bill, THROWS it on the counter, and says, «I will give you this money OUT OF MY OWN POCKET, so you have to write me a note to prove it.» WHAT THE HELL!!!
«That’s what I’ve been ASKING for the past FORTY MINUTES!» I screeched. But I willed myself to calm down again, telling myself that old people could be ornery, that I need to be understanding. With trembling hands, I took the pen and paper he offered me, and in a fit of NICENESS, decided to write him a thorough note. «I paid $ 20 with my credit card. I received $ 20 in cash as a refund. The balance is now $ 0.» I handed him his pen and paper, at which point, he started yelling at me again, «Why did you write $ 0! I gave you $ 20!!!» I was so astonished, I broke down crying again. «Read what I wrote! I paid you $ 20 with my CC, right?!» «Yes.» «And you gave me a $ 20 cash refund, right?!» «Yes.» «SO NOW THE BALANCE IS $ 0, RIGHT?!» «Yes.» «Then what’s the problem!!! I’ve been here for forty minutes! Can i GO NOW?!» «Okay, sorry.»
AFTER FORTY MINUTES OF BEING A JACKASS, HE FINALLLLLY APOLOGIZES??? IN THAT TONE???
I was so angry, I couldn’t stop shaking for a good hour after. At the next gas station, there were a bevy of customers who’d been at this gas station with me, talking about how the old man had been holding me hostage.
I can’t believe I cried TWICE this morning… at a GAS STATION, of all places. Over $ 20, no less. WTF.

Ghetto. Dirty, broken pumps, no squeegees. The only reason I’ve stopped here is because it’s the closest station when you get off the 5 at Euclid heading north. Other than that there is no reason to stop here.