My friend and I are standing in a long queue for a popular ride at a British theme park when a couple of teenage girls cut in front of us.

Friend: “Excuse me. But you need to return to the back of the line.”

Girl #1: “Whatever. I am not going to wait twenty minutes just to go on a stupid ride.”

Friend: “I am sorry, but we have all been waiting; you can wait, too.”

Girl #2: “Oh, piss off, b****!”

My friend is about to retort to that, but I grab her by the arm and whisper in her ear that I have an idea and that she should just let it go. As we get closer to the front of the line, I wait for my opportunity to get my revenge.

The girls stop at the front of the line, and as we are just about to get on the ride, I flag down the operator.

Me: “Excuse me. Those two girls in front of us cut the line further back, and when we tried to tell them to go to the back of the line, they call my friend a b****.”

Girl #1: “WHAT! NO, WE DIDN’T! SHE IS LYING! SHE JUMPED THE QUEUE! SHE AND HER FRIEND DID!”

At that moment, the people in the queue behind us confirmed my story, and the two girls got sent to the back of the queue, shouting obscenities as they went.

The queue had now stretched to a forty-five-minute wait time.

I’m an attendant at an indoor shooting range for kids, where they fire foam balls out of air-powered guns mounted within the arena. It can get a little hectic, but it’s an okay shift to get as parents either play with their kids or leave them to it.

There is a narrow passageway leading to the entrance, with a gate clearly stating, “No shoes beyond this point.” As you can imagine, we get a lot of parents walking straight through the gate to play with or watch their kids, and most of my job is reminding them to remove their shoes and place them in a nearby shoe park. There are also coin-operated lockers just next to the shoe park.

Most parents are fine, a few huff and puff, but this particular customer took the cake. He’s a middle-aged guy, fairly heavy-set, not exactly threatening, but I’m a pretty slightly built seventeen-year-old.

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but if you wouldn’t mind just removing your shoes if you’re going to come in.”

Customer: “Nah, they’ll get nicked.”

He’s wearing an incredibly battered pair of walking boots.

Me: “I can assure you it won’t be a problem, sir. While we can’t guarantee personal property, I’ve never seen anyone steal shoes around here. If you’re concerned, we do have coin-operated lockers—”

I’m interrupted at this point by the man stepping forward, directly into my personal space, and sticking his face into mine.

Customer: “So, will you guarantee the safety of my shoes, personally? Are you going to do that for me?!”

He is shaping up like he’s about to challenge me to a fight. This is a grown man, squaring up to a teenager, because he was asked to remove his shoes.

Me: “As I said, sir, I can’t guarantee any personal property. But you’ll need to take your shoes off to come in.”

The man gives me a long, searching look, then huffs, removes his shoes, and puts them RIGHT by the entrance. This is technically not allowed, but at this point, I don’t have the energy to argue with him. 

He goes in and starts playing with his kids. After about fifteen minutes, he comes up to me, grinning. 

Customer: “This is great! How long has this been here?! I don’t wanna leave!”

He was perfectly friendly and had a great time, and when he left, he not only thanked me, but he also handed me a lost membership card he’d found in the play area so it could be returned to its owner!

I can only imagine the abrupt shift in personality was due to him realising how pathetic it was to physically intimidate a seventeen-year-old half his weight over a no-shoes policy!

I’m working in a soft-play area as a supervisor. Our rule for the two biggest slides is that children have to wear trousers or leggings below the knee, and sleeves, due to the risk of friction burns if the kids aren’t careful on the slides. Vests and football shorts are a no-no. We actually encourage full coverage of arms and legs but recognise that’s not gonna happen in the summer, though we still ask parents to approve their kids going down if they’re in, say, shorts and a T-shirt. We give each kid a stamp if their parent or guardian gives the okay.

There’s quite a lot of grumbling and groaning from customers who aren’t prepared for the rules, but generally, we get to where we need to be. We even sell cheap leggings and trousers for kids who are wearing clothes we deem too dangerous.

I approach a customer whose kids have walked up to me asking if they’re allowed to go down.

Me: “I just need to check with your mum.”

The girl is fine, but the boy is wearing a vest and so needs to put something over his arms.

Customer: *Smiling* “Is everything okay? Can they go down?”

Me: *Also smiling* “Almost! We just need to find something for his arms—”

Customer: *Suddenly furious* “WHAT?! YOU KNOW WHAT?! I HAVE ABSOLUTELY HAD IT WITH THIS PLACE! GET ME A F****** MANAGER, NOW! ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS!”

This is clearly beyond my pay grade, so I do just that, and one of the managers comes from the office and takes over. I go about my business. At the end of the day, I approach said manager and ask what happened.

Manager: “Oh, she had something with long sleeves for the boy in her bag. She said it was just ridiculous we were ‘forcing’ her to ‘make him boil’ in the summer. I did explain everything about the health and safety issues, and she agreed but still said it was ridiculous.”

Me: “Oh, well, at least she did what we asked. She was really yelling and screaming at me.”

Manager: “That’s no good. Was she abusive?”

Me: “No. I guess just hot and bothered.”

Manager: “Aren’t we all? Imagine if we stopped applying the rules just because it was warm?”

I work in the gift shop of a theme park and open farm. The business is connected to a working farm, and when I was a kid, there used to be a farm shop selling produce, etc. This disappeared years ago; by the time I started working there, it had been closed for four years. Two years into my employment, a customer comes in.

Customer: “Hello, I’m looking for the farm shop. Has it moved?”

Me: *Brightly but apologetically* “I’m really sorry, madam, but I’m afraid the farm shop actually closed about six years ago. We still sell local honey and a few other things in here.” *Gestures*

Customer: *Suddenly affronted* “But I was in there last year! Why has it closed?!”

Me: “I’m afraid it would have been longer than that. I can only assume it wasn’t profitable.”

The customer just blinks at me and walks out, grumbling that it must have closed recently. My manager overhears the conversation, and after the lady has left, turns to me.

Manager: “Does she think we’re hiding it somewhere?”

I’m working at a theme park and it’s as hot as Hell. I’m coming back from my break and passing through the entrance of the ride where all the strollers are parked when I hear something. I approach a stroller and there is a baby inside it! The strollers are not shadowed at all. So basically a parent wanted to do the ride without her baby and left it to cook under the sun alone!

I immediately take the baby to the babycare services and tell them what happened, hoping the shock the parents will have when they can’t find their baby will teach them how to be better parents before child protective services are called!

Then the same thing happened at the carousel! A young girl of maybe three was alone at the entrance. Her mom was in the queue and yelled at me that her daughter didn’t want to go on the carousel so she left her there all alone!

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Call… The… Police