(I was working at a hotel my last semester of college and was promoted to supervisor soon after graduating. A coworker who is male and I, a female, are checking an elderly couple in one afternoon.)

Coworker: “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Elderly Couple: “Yes, can we get some help with our luggage?”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, but the bellman just left to take some people to the airport, but he will be back in 20 or 30 minutes.”

Elderly Couple: “Well, can you help us?”

Coworker: “No, that’s beneath me.”

Elderly Couple: *shocked silence*

Me: *to the elderly couple* “Folks, as soon as I finish checking in this guest, I’d be happy to assist you with your bags.”

Coworker: *gives me a dirty look*

(After helping the couple with their bags, they give me a $10 tip. I walk back to the lobby and wave the bill at my coworker.)

Me: “Don’t ever say that again. If you don’t want to help someone with their bags, say you’re unable to then ask someone else to help them.”

Coworker: *walks away in a huff*

(I walk over to the bellman’s stand and put the tip in his drawer, since the bellman work almost solely off of tips, then return to my counter. After coming back from lunch, my coworker goes over to the bellman at his stand.)

Coworker: *to the bellman* “Aren’t we not supposed to help anyone with their stuff and tell them to wait for you to get back?”

Bellman: “Yes, why?”

Coworker: “Because she took someone’s luggage up for them while you were gone!”

Bellman: “Oh, I wondered where this $10 came from. Thanks, [my name]!”


Coworker: *walks away in a huff*

Bellman: *to me* “And that is why you got promoted to supervisor and he never will be.”

A teenage girl approaches me as I am checking tickets for a theater screen.

Teenage Girl: “Excuse me. There’s someone in my seat, and they’re refusing to move.”

I get cover for my position, and I follow the girl into the theater, checking her ticket on the way. In her seat is an older woman with a group of children.

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re in this customer’s seat.”

Customer: “She can move somewhere else. I need to sit here with my babies!”

She gestures to the four children next to her.

Me: “May I see your tickets, ma’am?”

Customer: “You may not! You saw my tickets on the way in, and that is enough violations of my privacy!”

Me: “I’m not trying to check your personal details, ma’am, just your seat number.”

Customer: “Not happening.”

Me: “Ma’am, either you show me your ticket or the movie is ‘not happening’. Pick one.”

The customer rolls her eyes, scoffs, and makes a long song and dance about slowly opening her bag, followed by slowly opening her purse. She glacially hands over a crumpled-up ticket.

Me: “Ma’am, you’re seated down at the front, in row A.”

Customer: “Those are terrible seats! My babies will get bad necks!” *Glares at the teenage girl* “Why does this b**** get to sit in the nice seats and my babies have to sit down in the front?”

Me: *Looking at both tickets, as well as the teenage girl’s receipt* “Because this customer purchased her ticket online about two weeks ago, and you purchased yours five minutes ago at Concessions. Now, please let this customer have the seat that she paid for, or I will have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “I’m not moving!”

Without skipping a beat, I get on my radio.

Me: “Security to screen seven, please. We have a customer who needs escorting from the premises.”

Customer: “Wait, you were serious?!”

Me: “You thought I was joking?”

Customer: “Fine, fine! I’ll move!”

Me: “No, ma’am. You didn’t move when asked multiple times. That time has passed. You now need to leave the theater.”

Customer: “F*** you! I paid for my tickets, and I deserve to see this movie!”

Me: “And everyone else who paid also deserves to see the movie — without you causing a scene. Please leave.”

The customer stubbornly remains in her seat, and the security guard is unable to remove her; he can’t physically touch her unless she’s being violent. We have to wait for the police to come and forcibly remove her, by which time the movie is half an hour late.

The best part about the story comes at the end. The four kids next to her (mostly teenagers) have been silent and well-behaved during the whole interaction. Since it’s a PG-13 movie and it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, I ask them if they’d like to accompany their mother or stay and watch the movie. 

Kids: “That’s not our mother! We don’t know that woman! We thought she was talking about someone else!”

(I get a job at a video game store not long before ‘Grand Theft Auto V’ came out, and before and after its release many parents came into the store to buy their kids the game.)

Customer: “Hello, do you have this GTA game?”

Me: “Grand Theft Auto V”? Sure, we have them right here. Is this for yourself?

Customer: “No, it’s for my son.”

Me: “Is he under the age of eighteen? I just need to tell you the content of the game.”

Customer: “He’s 10.”

Me: “Okay, it’s of course completely up to you whether or not he plays this game but as it’s rated 18, I’ll have to tell you that it contains extreme violence in it and sexual content.”

Customer: “That’s fine.”

Me: “It really is quite bad. There’s a really horrific torture scene in it, and it contains a strip club that the characters can go to, and it has prostitutes, etc.”

Customer: “Yes, yes, that’s fine. This is the game he wanted.”

Me: “It also contains swearing.”

Customer: “What?! What kind of game is that?! I can’t believe he wants this! Well, he’s not getting it!”

Related:
Grand Theft Innocence, Part 10
Grand Theft Innocence, Part 9
Grand Theft Innocence, Part 8
Grand Theft Innocence, Part 7
Grand Theft Innocence, Part 6

(The cardholder sounds very very drunk.)

Caller: “Why did you let the card take out $5,000?”

Me: “It shows that you did an ATM withdrawal for $5,000 in Las Vegas, NV. Was this you?”

Caller: “No! It was the stripper she took it. She took it! Why did you let her take it?”

Me: “Your card was stolen by a stripper?”

Caller: “No, no, no! Why aren’t you listening to me?”

Me: “Sir, I don’t understand. What happened?”

Caller: “I wanted a lap dance. So, I gave the stripper my card and PIN number to get money.”

Me: “You gave her your card and PIN and told her to get $5000?”

Caller: “No! Why aren’t you listening to me? I told the stripper to get $300 for my lap dance.”

Me: “So, she took too much money?”

Caller: “Why did you let her? When is she coming back? I want my lap dance.”

(This goes on for a little while with the caller slurring his speech and stuttering.)

Caller: “Why won’t you help me?”

Me: “What would you like me to do?”

Caller: “Fine! Don’t help me. I’ll go back to the tables and win back my fortune!”

(Note: the president of the very small marketing firm where I work can be a little loopy sometimes.)

President: “What do we want?”

Me: “Huh?”

President: “Time travel!”

Me: “O…kay?”

President: “When do we want it?”

Me: “Now?”

President: “Doesn’t really matter when, does it?”