It’s my first day working at the pizza station at a bowling alley.

Customer: “How big is the twelve-inch pizza?”

Me: “About twelve inches?”

She looks at me in a completely insulted manner.

Customer: “Are you trying to be funny?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “So, how big is the twelve-inch pizza?!”

Me: “About thirty centimeters.”

Customer: *Angry* “HOW BIG IS IT?!”

Me: “About one foot.”

Customer: “Get me your manager!”

My manager is brought over and goes through the exact same thing until she resorts to showing the customer with her hands roughly how big twelve inches/thirty centimeters/one foot actually is.

Customer: “Finally, someone who speaks f****** English around here.”

The customer is served and walks away.

Manager: *To me* “Next time, just use visuals. Most of our customers aren’t good with numbers.”

During a busy day, I am sitting behind the counter when a customer walks through our open doors, while most of our lanes have active bowlers.

Customer: “Are you guys open?”

This happens far more often than I can count.

I worked at a bowling alley for a year before they shut down. Near the end, pretty much everything was worn down, including the rental shoes. One customer came in, paid for a game and a shoe rental, and then went down to her lane. She came back a few moments later.

Customer: “These shoes are really worn out. Can I exchange them for some nicer ones?”

Me: “You’re right; those ones are pretty ratty. Give them to me and I’ll see if I have a nicer pair.”

I took the shoes and crouched behind the counter (where we kept all the rentals) and looked through them. Nothing in or around her size was in better condition. I stood back up, holding the same pair she was originally given.

Me: “I’m sor—”

Customer: *Cutting me off* “Yes, this pair is much nicer! Thank you!”

She went back to her lane and had no other issues with her “better” shoes.

Related:
If The Shoe Fits…, Part 12
If The Shoe Fits…, Part 11
If The Shoe Fits…, Part 10
If The Shoe Fits…, Part 9
If The Shoe Fits…, Part 8

A boy comes up to the reception desk.

Boy: “Can I have some crisps?”

Me: “Of course.”

Boy: “And can I also have a packet of evils?”

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry?”

Boy: “Evils! The ones you have in the cabinet.”

I turn back to the cabinet for a couple of seconds.

Me: “Do you mean Revels?”

Boy: “Yes.”

I am at the bowling alley where my brother is a manager, practicing for a bowling league I’m in. A young kid comes up to me and asks to use my bowling ball.

Me: “Sorry, kid. I don’t think you could pick it up even if I let you.”

Kid: “Aww, okay.”

Later, the kid’s mother comes up to me.

Mother: “Hey! Give my kid your bowling ball, now!”

Me: “No. It’s fourteen pounds. Your kid is like seven; he could not lift it, let alone bowl with it.”

Mother: “Too bad! Give me it, now!”

Me: “No, lady, I’m using it. I still have two more games to bowl, and when I’m done, I’m packing up my bowling balls and leaving.”

Mother: “You can’t steal them! I’m telling the manager!”

Me: “Oh, please do.”

Mother: *To my brother* “Someone is stealing four bowling balls on lane four!”

My brother remembers what lane he put me on.

Brother: “Okay, I’ll go check.” *Coming over to me* “Man, that lady’s crazy!”

Me: “I know, right?”

Mother: “Since the manager won’t do anything, give me those balls!”

Me: “No, lady. I paid for these with my money!”

Mother: “TOO BAD!”

She tried to take the balls from me and was promptly kicked out.