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  • Bigotry Comes In All Shapes And Sizes
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    The Matrix Rejected

    | Florida, USA |

    (I used to work in a shop selling overpriced family coat of arms in a shop at a certain theme park in Florida. After a transaction had gone through, this customer turns to her daughter.)

    Customer: “Was that lucky?”

    Oracle Child: *stares blankly*

    Customer: “Was it unlucky to buy it using that card?”

    Oracle Child: “Yes…”

    Customer: “You sure it was unlucky?”

    Oracle Child: “Yes.”

    Customer: “I have to cancel that purchase and use a different card.”

    Coworker: “It’s already gone through.”

    Customer: “This is [theme park]!”

    (My coworker has to oblige the customer and hands her the forms to cancel it. Stupidly, she refuses to sign the forms and storms out with her husband and Oracle Child in tow.)

    And On The 40th Day, The Customers Complained

    | Orlando, FL, USA |

    (It was raining one day and didn’t look like it would be stopping any time soon.)

    Guest: “Hi, could you tell me when it’s going to stop raining?”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m not sure.”

    Guest: “Well, why not? I came here to enjoy the park, and my family can’t do that when its pouring rain! When will it stop so we know when to come back?”

    Me: “Hold on a sec…”

    (I pick up the phone.)

    Me: “Hi, GOD? Ya, its me, how you doing? Ya, ya…I’m good as you can see. Well you see this woman standing next to me? She’s wondering when you’re gonna stop the rain so she can enjoy the park…Oh, okay. I’ll let her know! Have a magical day!”

    (The woman storms off to another cast member and demands to see my manager. I got fired, but it was TOTALLY worth it!)

    Tonight At 11: Mom Coats Baby In Semigloss

    | Maryland, USA |

    (Two women walk up with their little babies, still young enough to be carried around wrapped in blankets.)

    Lady 1: “How much is face painting for the kids?”

    Me: “Three dollars, ma’am.”

    Lady #1: “Could you charge us less ‘cuz our kids are small?”

    Me: *looking for her kids, thinking she can’t possibly be referring to the babies* “How small are they?”

    Lady #1: “They’re babies!”

    Me: *eyes popping out* “Excuse me?”

    Lady #2: “We’re HOLDIN’ ‘EM! They’re babies!”

    Me: “Um, ma’am, I don’t think I can paint on your infants.”

    Lady# 2: “Well why NOT?”

    Me: “Because this is heavy professional paint. It says right on the label, ‘Not for use for children under three years.’ It’ll irritate their skin.”

    Lady #1: “So you won’t paint our babies?”

    Me: “No, ma’am. I can’t do that. It’s not safe.”

    Lady #1: “There ain’t no sign that says you won’t!”

    Me: “I should think that kinda goes without saying…”

    Lady #1: “So this means we waited in that line for NOTHING?”

    Lady #2: “Y’all should put up a sign or something that says you won’t face paint on babies, ‘cuz I thought that was y’alls job.”

    Me: “I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve been doing this for years and nobody’s ever tried to have an infant painted before so I never thought I’d have to mention it. It’s dangerous.”

    Lady #1: “Well that just ain’t fair! Damn, if I knew you wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t've waited in that line!”

    Lady #2: “Y’all need to put up a sign or something! I thought this was for the KIDS–aren’t babies kids?”

    Me: “I’ve already explained–it’s dangerous. I won’t do it, and neither will any of my coworkers.”

    Lady #2: *as they’re both walking away* “That just ain’t fair. They should have a sign.”

    Me: “Have a nice afternoon, ladies!”

    (I found out later that, after I left, the women came back twice to different painters trying to get someone to face-paint on their infants. Both times, they were told the same thing.)

    The Bare Truth

    | Doswell, VA, USA |

    (I worked the front security gate at a local amusement park during the summer. It has a water park inside, so people come through in bathing suits, and sometimes less. A guest walks through the metal detector and it flashes red.)

    Me: “Do you have anything metallic on you sir? Like maybe your car keys, a watch? Something like that?”

    Guest: “No, I didn’t drive here, my friend did.” *points to his friend and walks back through the gate*

    Me: “Surprise, it flashed red again. Are you sure you don’t have anything metallic on you?”

    Guest: “NO! I told you I didn’t drive here!”

    (He began to take off his shorts and shirt before I could say anything; he had nothing but a speedo on underneath.)

    Me: “Umm, what’s that?”

    (He drops the speedos in front of the crowd.)

    Guest: “Those are my keys, I put them in my bathing suit so I wouldn’t lose them on the rides.”

    Me: “Please pull your pants back up, and those do count as something metallic, just so you know for next time.”

    (He walks into the park with his friends, and now I have a line of guests who all assume I will make them strip…awesome.)

    Send In The Clowns

    | New York, USA | Top

    (Almost thirty kids are lined up at the velcro wall waiting to ride. We have about five minutes until out troupe leaves.)

    Some Mother: “I want my son to ride this ride.”

    Me: “Ma’am I don’t think there’s enough time for all these kids to–”

    Some Mother: “I don’t care if he’s the last one. I want him to ride this ride.”

    Me: “This ride is going to shut down in about five minutes. There isn’t enough time for–”

    Some Mother: “He can be the last in line then.”

    Me: “He can wait in line but probably won’t be able to–”

    Some Mother: “Fine.”

    (Mother walks away and returns some time after the ride is shut down and all kids are turned away.)

    Some Mother: “Hey! HEY! I thought we agreed that my child would get on the ride.”

    Me: “That’s not what we agreed to.”

    Some Mother: “Well, put the ride back up so he can ride it.”

    Me: “I’m sorry but we can’t do all that for one child.”

    Some Mother: “Why not?! Your just being f**king stubborn.”

    Me: “If you have any complaints you can speak to the clown over there. Have a nice day.”

    Some Mother: “I don’t want to talk to any d**n clown.”

    Me: “That clown is my boss.”


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