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    Rated I For Immature, Part 3

    | NY, USA | Movies & TV

    (Two older women have come in to see a popular, R-rated film. They are quite giddy and cheerful.)

    Me: “Hi, what can I do for you today?”

    Customer #1: “Two senior tickets for [film], please!”

    Customer #2: “I’m paying! Don’t let her pay, it’s her birthday!”

    Customer #1: “No, I’ve got it!”

    Customer #2: *moves between her friend and me* “No, I’m paying!” *she pays* “Don’t mind us, we’ve just escaped from the nursing home.”

    Customer #1: “Don’t tell our kids we’re here!”

    (I smile, and they go to their movie. An hour and a half later, I see them walking out, quiet and looking stunned.)

    Customer #1: “We are not telling our kids we saw that!”

    Related:
    Rated I For Immature, Part 2
    Rated I For Immature

    Seeing Red

    | NY, USA | Food & Drink, Wild & Unruly

    (Two customers approach the concession stand.)

    Customer: “I’d like a small red slushie.”

    Me: “All right, I’ll be right back with that!”

    (I go around the corner and try to get him his drink. The machine is working poorly, and I can’t get anything to come out. I pull the lever as hard as I can, with no success.)

    Me: *to my manager* “I think we have a problem.”

    (As soon as I say it, the slushie explodes out of the machine, covering me from head to toe and spreading over about a third of the concession stand. I stand there dumbfounded for a moment, then grab a paper towel, wipe off the cup, and bring it back around to the customer, who is obviously trying not to laugh.)

    Me: *to his friend* “And can I get you anything?”

    Customer’s Friend: *grinning* “Yes. A small red slushie, please!”

    Pop-Corntempt

    | WA, USA | Food & Drink, Spouses & Partners

    (I have recently broken my foot, and the pain and brace I wear under my shoe causes a pronounced limp. I’m working in concessions on a slow day when an elderly couple approaches to order. Our kettle is popping corn directly behind me, so it’s difficult to hear.)

    Me: “Hello, how are you doing today?”

    Male Customer: *mumbles inaudibly*

    Me: “What can I get started for you?”

    Female Customer: “He just ordered a small popcorn.”

    Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, of course. Buttery topping?”

    Male Customer: *mumbles inaudibly*

    Me: “Sorry? Could you repeat that?”

    Female Customer: “He said butter!”

    Me: “Ah, thank you. Would you like anything to drink with that?”

    Female Customer: “Teenagers! You never listen to a word anyone says! He already ordered a small coke!”

    (I’m 24, but I brush off the comment about my age as it’s a common mistake.)

    Me: “I apologize, it’s difficult for me to hear for the corn popping.”

    (I proceed to collect the ordered items, limping as usual. I overhear the woman mumbling, but think little of it.)

    Me: “Here you are, can I get any candy or anything else for you?”

    Female Customer: “If you’re done shuffling about so lazily, I’d like you to ring me up.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I broke my foot recently. I was moving as fast as I could under the circumstances.”

    Female Customer: “Right, uh huh. Whatever excuse you need. Lazy teenagers.”

    (I complete the transaction, and go about various tasks as soon as they leave, trying to hide my obvious annoyance. After a few minutes, the man returns and leans way over the counter with a serious frown. I nervously shuffle over.)

    Me: “Welcome back, how can I help you?”

    Male Customer: “I just wanted to apologize about my hag of an old wife. She’s got some sort of stick crammed up there, and it sure ain’t mine!”

    Melteasers

    | New Zealand | Crazy Requests, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

    Me: “Hi, how can I help?”

    Customer: “I want a bag of Malteasers.”

    Me: “Sure, just a moment…”

    (I reach under the counter and take a bag of Malteasers from the drawer.)

    Me: “That’s $5.50.”

    Customer: “No, I don’t want those!”

    Me: “Pardon?”

    Customer: “Those ones you keep below the counter are all crushed up together! ”

    (She bangs the bag up and down on the counter. If they weren’t before, they’re probably a bit crushed now.)

    Me: “They felt fine when I took them out, but I can get you another.”

    Customer: “I want those ones!”

    (The customer points to the wall behind me. We hang some expired stock there just to show what we have available.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, that’s just for display. It’s expired stock.”

    Customer: “I don’t care. I want one of those.”

    Me: “Uh, okay.”

    (I reach for a nearby bag on the wall.)

    Customer: “No, not that one! I want one of the ones up there. Right up the top!”

    Me: “Those are under the lights. They’ve probably melted.”

    Customer: “One of those!”

    Me: “Okay…”

    (I scramble onto the counter behind me and take down one of the expired, partially melted bags at the top of the wall.)

    Me: “That’s $5.50.”

    Customer: “THANK YOU!”

    Even Hills Have Bills

    | Alderwood, WA, USA | Movies & TV

    (I work as floor staff for a major theater company. This happened about two and a half years ago, just prior to a haircut. Two teenage girls walk up to the box office.)

    Me: “How’s it goin’?”

    Customer #1: “Two for… oh, what’s that called?”

    Customer #2: *looks at me* “He should know. He was in it!”

    Me: *baffled* “Um, I’m sorry?”

    Customer #2: “You’re that guy, right? That Superbad guy, right?”

    Me: “…Jonah Hill?”

    Customer #2: “Yeah, that’s right!”

    Customer #1: “Hey, yeah!”

    Me: “I guarantee you I’m not Jonah Hill.”

    Customer #2: “Are you sure?”

    Me: “If I was Jonah Hill, why would I be working for minimum wage at a movie theater?”

    Customer #2: “Maybe you need a second job?”


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