(I work at a small art house cinema. I am standing at the podium ripping tickets when an older man approaches me and immediately begins yelling at me.)

Customer: “How am I supposed to know what’s showing? There’s no information anywhere!”

(I point to the big red electronic sign above the counter.)

Me: “All of the movies showing tonight are displayed up there, sir.”

(The customer looks up and points at an abbreviated title.)

Customer: “That useless! What’s Lord of the Ri supposed to be? How am I supposed to know what that is!?!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, we also have these printed schedules which include the full movie titles and all the times showing this week.”

Customer: “Well, what good is that?! I want to know what the films are about and it doesn’t tell me anywhere! You seriously need to do something about this!”

Me: “The schedules include a brief synopsis, and there are also more detailed descriptions displayed on that board over there.”

Customer: “Well, that’s no good to me! What about the films that are coming soon?”

Me: “There are posters all around the foyer here with that information. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

(The man launches in to a tirade about god knows what and I have work to do, so I take the opportunity to disappear through the crowd. To my dismay, I turn around a few seconds later to find him right behind me, and at this point he continues yelling.)

Customer: “AND YOUR CARPET IS RUBBISH!”

(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*

(The last Harry Potter movie has just come out. My local theater is doing a midnight double feature of the two parts to the last movie. I am the customer in this scenario.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like to buy a ticket to the Harry Potter Double Feature, please!”

Employee #1: *checks computer* “I’m sorry, but we’re all out.”

Me: “Really? Oh, no! There’s nothing you can do?”

Employee #1: “No. I’m sorry.”

(At this point, I’m doing my best not to cry. This was very important to me, because it was for my best friend’s birthday.)

Me: “All right. Could I use your phone? I need to tell my dad and don’t have a cellphone.”

Employee #1: “Sure.”

(I use the phone to tell my dad that I couldn’t get the tickets. While doing so, I start crying. During this time, the first worker is switching out with a second worker, who takes immediate notice of my tears.)

Employee #2: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “I was trying to buy a ticket to the Harry Potter Double Feature, but they’re all gone. It’s my best friend’s sixteenth birthday and we were going to go together, and I’m so sorry that I’m crying. I really shouldn’t get this emotional. I’m being ridiculous.”

Employee #1: “No, that’s okay. Here, let me help you. If you buy a ticket to the midnight showing, I’ll let you in to the Double Feature.”

Me: “Really?”

Employee #1: “Yes, really. I’ll be working that night, and it’ll be no problem.”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(My best friend and I went to the Double Feature. I saw the employee again, and she let me in. I will never forget what she did for me!)

(A customer in her sixties comes in to buy a ticket. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that has the Pokémon Magikarp saying, ‘I swear to God, when I evolve, I’m going to kill you all.’)

Me: “Do you like Pokémon?”

Customer: *offended* “Pokémon?! No! Why?”

Me: “Well, that’s a Pokémon on your sweatshirt. It’s an awful one, but it evolves into one that’s totally awesome!”

Customer: “This is a Pokémon? I thought this was a statement about atheism!”

Related:
Gotta Catch Them All Ages

(At the theater, we’re required to double-check the IDs of patrons attending rated R films if they look under 21. If a patron under 21 is not escorted by a guardian OVER 21, they cannot come in. A guest and her boyfriend approach the ticket-taking area.)

Me: *taking their tickets* “Can I see your IDs, please?”

(The guest hands me her ID, but I see that she’s only twenty.)

Guest’s Boyfriend: “I forgot mine.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir. Your girlfriend is under 21, so she doesn’t qualify to be your guardian, and I can’t let you in without an ID stating that you’re at least 17.”

Guest: “Baby, why didn’t you bring your ID?”

Guest’s Boyfriend: “It’s not my fault she’s being a b****!”

Me: “Excuse me? Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Guest’s Boyfriend: “Well, I’m not leaving.”

Me: *on the radio* “[Security guard], could you come to the front please?”

Security: “What’s going on?”

(As I explain the situation, as the guest simply stares at the guard. He’s a very large Hispanic man in a suit.)

Security: “Did you really call her that?”

Guest’s Boyfriend: “I, uh…”

Security: “Leave. Now, buddy.”

Guest’s Boyfriend: “Man!” *leaves*

(The guest goes back to the box office to demand a refund. Because he was technically kicked out for misconduct, it wasn’t required for us to give him a refund. My coworker in the box office comes out to speak to me.)

Coworker: “He’s asking for a refund, but I told him it would be up to you.”

(I look and see the guest staring irritably down at the box office counter.)

Me: “He can have his refund, but he can’t come back in tonight.”

(We never saw him again.)

Related:
No ID, No Idea, Part 9