Being Nice Is The Ticket

I’m helping set up a stand for my family’s business. I’m carrying heavy boxes and trying to get through the many idling people waiting to get in as normal ticket holders. One woman, in the way and on her phone, drops her ticket. It’s one of the ones you print at home, and she has just dropped in a puddle.

Me: “Excuse me, I—”

Woman: *Abruptly* “I’m not interested.”

Me: “What?”

I suddenly realise she must think me a creep

Me: “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. You dropped your—”

Woman: “I said leave me alone!”

Me: “Sure thing. Good luck getting in!”

She looked at me with disgust and flipped me off.

I moved past her and they let me in. I took several trips back to the van to collect more stuff. On the last one, I saw the woman frantically trying to search for her ticket; it wasn’t where she dropped it. Then, she tried to con her way in as part of the trades setting up. They weren’t having any of it.