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    Just Bagging For Trouble

    | London, England, UK | Bizarre, Wild & Unruly

    (I work at the box office of a cinema. A middle-aged lady approaches.)

    Customer: *politely* “One ticket for [film], please.”

    Me: “No problem!”

    (I print her ticket, but then realise I have accidentally printed the wrong performance time. She is holding out her hand expectantly.)

    Me: “My apologies, but I have accidentally printed the wrong ticket. Just give me a moment and I’ll have this fixed for you.”

    Customer: *with absolutely no warning and in a high pitched squeal* “HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME!”

    (The customer then proceeds to whack me with her handbag and storm out of the lobby. My coworkers who witnessed it share the same bemused expression as I do. A few months pass and this same customer returns several times, all without incident. One evening she approaches my coworker.)

    Customer: “A ticket for [film], please.”

    Coworker: “Absolutely, I—”

    (He looks ups and sees who it is, panics slightly, causing his hand to spasm and press the wrong button. The wrong ticket comes out. The rest of his coworkers and I are watching intently.)

    Coworker: “I… I… I’m sorry but—”

    Customer: *again with zero warning* “SABOTAGE! WHY DO YOU SABOTAGE ME!”

    (This is followed by handbag attack and then swift exit. At this point we have it worked out that the customer is perfectly pleasant in the whole transaction, unless something goes slightly wrong, which for some reason she just can’t handle. A little more time goes by, and I am talking with three of my coworkers at the box office.)

    Coworker: “So anyway, what are—”

    (His voice trails off and his eyes go wide, I follow his line of sight and see her slowly approaching the box office. I turn back and see my coworker PHYSICALLY HIDING UNDER HIS DESK. I turn and see my two other coworkers have done the same.)

    Me: “Seriously?”

    Coworker: *whispering* “This is the arrangement we have now when dealing with… with HER.”

    (The customer approaches me, as the only visible box office worker.)

    Customer: “One ticket for [film], please.”

    (I carefully ensure I listen to get every word, and press the correct button to print the correct ticket. I successfully do so and breathe a sigh of relief when the ticket is produced from the machine. This is short-lived when in a case of truly awful timing, the machine breaks down and rips the ticket in half as it is printed.)

    Me: “Ah… s***.”

    Customer: *screams* *handbag attack* *leaves*