An entitled Karen tries to blame me for her car breaking down, demanding that I leave

my job to go pick up her car, bring it back to our gas station, and fix all of her problems.

But after a while, I simply couldn't take her comments any longer.

So I blew up on this entitled Karen and told her to get lost, resulting in her trying to get me fired.

Here's what happened. Okay, so this goes back to 2003.

I'm working a minimum wage job at a very busy gas station in the United Kingdom.

I had only been there a few months, but at that point I knew the ropes of that place.

And it was also very busy.

Lines of cars and trucks going down the highway, and a line of customers going out the door.

And I'm working alone as usual.

So the cast of the story includes me, an overworked 17-year-old, with a bright future of PTSD

and other mental health goodness.

Our next person is the entitled Karen, who's just some lady who's missing her butler,

but still acts incredibly rude.

Anyways, this Karen got out of a taxi, and came up to the front of the line,

passed about 20 customers patiently waiting.

This entitled Karen had to be about 70 years old, and she's dressed head to toe in black velvet,

as well as a fur coat, and is wearing more platinum jewelry than I've ever seen before.

She also seemed vaguely familiar, and I didn't put it together until the end.

She demands in a very snobby voice that she needs fuel.

Imagine Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter, but much fatter.

I say to her, I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to wait your turn.

...