It was late, nearing the end of my shift. I was tired and hormonal and working with some slightly incompetent people. It was dark outside and all I wanted was to go home and sleep. A customer stopped her van in the full service lane and I hurried out to meet her. She wanted the basics: a fill, windows washed, oil checked. I did those things the same way I always have, quickly, efficiently, effectively. She was low on oil and I advised her to buy a litre, which she did, but when it came down to it, I couldn't get the cap off. "This has never happened to me before." She didn't seem to mind, told me her husband would handle it later, gave me her change and left. Four dollars. The only tip I'd had all week, and the largest one to that point.

Not half an hour later, another woman came in. She'd bought some tie-down cords for the tarp on her truck, and they were tremendously over-packaged; caged in plastic with heavy duty cardboard and screws. The subtle approach, using the tip of my knife, failed, and I was reduced to tearing the cardboard off by force. That was the only thing I did for her, opening a package. She gave me a five dollar bill. In less than an hour I'd been given the equivalent of my hourly wage, in the pocket money that people give away.

I like my job, I do, but I'd like a raise even more.