Rated R(iech)

(A new policy has been in effect for only a couple weeks about children under six years old not being allowed in rated-R movies. A lot of people don’t know the policy. Corporate had us put up a small sign alerting customers to the new rule.)

Me: “Hi there! What can I do for you today?”

Customer: “Hello. I’d like 11 tickets to [R-rated movie], please.”

(I spot a small child in his group.)

Me: “Okay, sir. How old is your little one?”

Customer: “He’s five.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but children six and under aren’t allowed in rated-R movies.”

Customer: “Oh, it’s okay; he’ll be with me.”

Me: “I understand, but he’s still not allowed in.”

Customer: *angry* “That’s ridiculous! I’m his father, and I decide what he can see! He’s six.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “He’s not five; he’s six. I forgot he had a birthday recently.”

Me: “The policy is that those six and under aren’t permitted. I’m sorry, sir, but no.”

(He comes inside. My co-assistant manager is next to me; I am also an assistant manager. My coworker has heard the whole conversation.)

Customer: “I want to talk to your manager now!”

Me: “I’m an assistant manager, and so is she.”

Customer: *to my coworker* “Why can’t my child see this movie?!”

Coworker: “As she has stated, the policy states that children under six can’t see R-rated movies. I’m sorry, but we don’t make the rules; we simply enforce them from corporate.”

Customer: *now yelling* “You guys are Nazis! You are just like the townspeople who did nothing when Nazis were burning bodies!”

Coworker: “I’m not listening to this.” *walks away*

Me: “Sir, please don’t call us Nazis.”

Customer: “That’s what you are! I want your names, and the corporate phone number! This is outrageous!”

Me: “No problem.” *hands him paper with all the info asked for* “Again, please don’t call us Nazis.”

(He left and never contacted corporate.)