It takes all types ...
I was already running late but I needed to put some LPG into my EF Falcon ute on the way home from work (would have been in the late 90's). Pull up at the Shell NW corner Maroondah Highway and Oban Road (Ringwood, VIC). Busy that night, only coupla LPG bowsers, a long queue at one, only one car at the ULP in front of the other. I pull up, patiently wait for the woman (these days, we might call her Karen), dicks around with the fuel, washes her windscreen, walks to the Shell Shop, returns to car to get purse, returns to Shell Shop. I wait, wait, wait for her to return, no show. I go to Shell Shop, see her on the Red Phone, walk up to her, ask her to move her car. Karen says, excuse me, can't you see I'm talking? Me, I've been waiting for 10 minutes. Karen, (loudly) eff off.
Well I snapped and must've been redder than the Red Phone, I push the silver button on the Red Phone and says, no you're not and whisper in her ear, now move your effing car or the bull bar on my car will.
First problem solved.
Second problem (my anger management) solved, but still surfaces from time to time.