I’m selling tickets on a fairly busy Saturday night. A group of five teens comes up to me and all purchase their tickets separate for an R rated movie. I am one of the sticklers for checking ID unlike some of the other employees and managers. I get to the third boy in line.
Me: And if I can just see your ID please.
Him: Why do you need my ID?
Me: Because the movie is rated R. It’s federal law that I check it or you be accompanied by an adult over 21.
Him: Well, I don’t have it.
Me: Well, I’m terribly sorry but we have a strict “No ID, no sale” policy here.
By now the boys around him are groaning and looking irritated, oddly enough at him. The boy looks away, huffs, and then grins like he has a million dollar idea.
Him: *badly flirting* Come on, you won’t lose your job. Do it, just for me? Come on!
Me: As I said before, no ID, no sale. Come back with a valid state issued driver’s license and I’ll sale you the ticket.
The group wanders off for about ten minutes while I furiously deal with the line they caused. The boys then comes back and the obviously underage one shoves a plain card in my face and in the second he had it there I read fishing license and noted that it had no picture.
Him: There! That has my birthday on it! Now sell me the ticket.
Me: Sorry. I still can’t. I don’t know if that actually belongs to you because it has no picture and I said Driver’s License. That could be someone else’s for all I know.
Him: JUST SELL ME THE TICKET!
By now I’m stressed and agitated and do something I have never done in the six years I’ve been in retail, snap back.
Me: *leaning over the computer* Look! No amount of yelling is going to get me to sell you the ticket, okay?! Bring. Back. Your. License. And I will sell you the ticket. It’s rated R for a reason.
Him: WHATEVER! Have an awful day! Just whatever.