I have a summer job operating rides at a small amusement park. Customers at the park can either buy individual tickets, with most rides costing two or three tickets per ride, or wristbands that allow free rides for three hours. Important to note is that the wristbands do not act as a “fast pass” allowing customers to jump the line at any rides; they still have to wait their turn just like everyone else. The cashiers inform customers of this any time they buy a wristband.

Each ride in the park has separate, clearly-marked entrance and exit gates, within sight of each other. One day, during the hottest week of the summer, I’m assigned to the Bumper Boats — a popular ride that day because riders can pass under hoses spraying cold water into the pool. There’s a decently long line at the entrance gate, when a group of boys, probably around twelve or thirteen, gathers at the exit gate.

The current ride finishes, and when I move to the exit gate to let the riders out, the boys prepare to run through the gate.

Me: *Before I open the gate* “Boys, this is the exit. The entrance is over there.”

Boy #1: *Holding up his wrist* “We have wristbands.”

Me: “That’s cool, but the wristbands just mean you don’t have to pay at the entrance. You still have to wait in line.”

The boys seem a bit disappointed because of the long line, but they also clearly understand my explanation of the rules and start heading to the back of the line while I let the current riders out of the exit. Suddenly, a woman comes running down the sidewalk.

Woman: *Nearly screaming* “Hey! Why did you kick my son and his friends out of line?”

Me: “I didn’t kick them out, ma’am. This is the exit gate; the entrance is over there.”

Woman: “There’s a line over there!”

Me: “Yes, there is.”

Woman: “I bought them wristbands for my son’s birthday party! You have to let them ride!”

Me: “Ma’am, the wristbands only allow free rides. They do not allow anyone to jump the line.”

Woman: “Then what’s the point of the wristbands?! You will let those boys ride right now, without having to wait in line!”

Me: “I can’t do that.”

Woman: “Where is your manager? We’ll see what he has to say about this!”

Me: “The owner of the park is working in the concession stand today. You are welcome to talk to him.”

Woman: “I will do that! Boys, come! Let’s go talk to the owner and make sure we get this sorted!”

She stormed off toward the concession stand, with the boys following behind looking like sad puppy dogs. The entire parking lot is visible from the Bumper Boat Pond, so ten minutes later, I watched the group get into an SUV and drive off. At the end of the day, I asked the owner what happened, and he said that he told the woman the same thing I did. The woman refused to accept the rules, so the owner kicked her out.

I felt bad for the boys, because the whole time the woman was screaming and arguing with me, they looked super sad and embarrassed. It was just another sad example of kids being more understanding of rules than adults.

I was working in a popular amusement park in Florida and was standing out front of the building with all the robot presidents. 

Guest: “Excuse me, do you know where the Hallway of Politicians is?”

Me: “Certainly! It’s right behind me.”

Guest: “No, that’s not it.”

I stood there, blinking, and then turned to look to make sure someone hadn’t stolen the building while I wasn’t looking. 

Nope, it was still there, the “Hallway of Politicians” sign right there in big letters attached to the front of the building.

Me: “Well, if you figure out where it is, could you let me know? I’m supposed to be standing in front of it.”

The guest wandered off, and I didn’t see them again.

I work in an indoor amusement park at a little hut on the way into our mini-golf course. We sell merchandise from the hut with the park’s name on it.

The park has a three-write-up system for employees; get written up three times and you’re fired. I’m a good employee who always works hard, but my boss hates me for reasons I’ve never known, and at this point in the summer, he’s already written me up twice.

A middle-aged woman runs in, absolutely frantic.

Guest: *Yelling* “You need to give me a shirt!”

Me: “Uh, well, we have T-shirts on that wall there, and sweatshirts—”

Guest: “No, I’m not buying a shirt. Your park owes me a shirt, and you’re going to give it to me!”

Me: “What?”

Guest: “The idiots in the food court didn’t put the lid on my son’s soda tight enough, and now he’s spilled it all over his shirt, so you need to give me a new one!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that happened, but I can’t give away merchandise. Tell you what. Let me radio for a manager, and we’ll see if there’s anything he can do.”

I pick up the walkie-talkie and call for [Boss]. No answer. I call for him again. Nothing. Meanwhile, the guest is becoming more and more irate, tapping her foot, and making huffing noises.

Guest: “My son is just standing there in the food court, dripping wet!”

Me: *Into my walkie-talkie* “[Boss], please come to mini-golf! Or if anyone sees [Boss], can you please tell him to come to mini-golf?

Again, silence.

Guest: “This is ridiculous! I’m taking this!”

She grabs a shirt from the wall and runs out of the booth.

Boss: *On the walkie-talkie* “This is [Boss]; go ahead.”

I quickly explain to [Boss] on the walkie-talkie what has happened, and I tell him that if he can meet me at the food court, I’ll point out the customer to him. [Boss] and I arrive at the food court at the same time and he’s carrying another shirt. I point the guest out and immediately see why the problem started: loose lid or not, this woman bought a thirty-two-ounce soda for a kid who could not be older than four. Of course, it spilled!

Boss: “Ma’am, I heard what happened, and I’m sorry, but I can’t let you keep that shirt. However, we happen to have another shirt leftover from a corporate event, and if you want, I can give you that shirt, instead.”

He holds out the T-shirt he’s carrying, and at first, this sounds like a pretty good solution, until he unfurls it and we see that it’s an adult extra-large. This makes her FURIOUS.

Guest: “HOW’S HE SUPPOSED TO WEAR THAT?!”

Boss: “Well, I know it’ll look a little silly, but if he tucks it into his shorts—”

Guest: “HE DOESN’T WEAR HIS SHIRTS TUCKED IN!”

With this, she pulls the park shirt off of her son, throws it at me, and replaces it with the extra-large.

Boy: “Mommy, it’s too big.”

Guest: “I know it’s too big! I know, but that’s what this man wants you to wear!” *Turns to [Boss]* “And you know what? If we were to go running in the park, and if he were to trip and, I don’t know, smack his little head—”

I swear to you, when she said, “smack his little head,” she actually smacked her son on the forehead!

Guest: “—then we would have to sue the park for giving him this shirt!”

She turns back to her son.

Guest: “Come on, let’s go! Let’s go running! You want to go climb on the jungle gym? Let’s go climb on the jungle gym!”

She runs off with [Son], leaving behind their pizza, one ginormous spilled soda, and an entire food court staring at [Boss] and me. [Boss] turns to me, seething.

Boss: “You’re getting written up for this.”

Me: “What? What did I do?”

Boss: “You gave away merchandise and that’s not allowed.”

Me: “But I didn’t! I didn’t give anything away; she came in and took the shirt!”

Boss: “DON’T ARGUE WITH ME!”

Me: “So, that’s my third write-up. Are you telling me I’m fired?”

Again, the ENTIRE FOOD COURT is watching this conversation. [Boss] thinks for a moment.

Boss: “You’re not fired. But you’re hanging by a thread.”

Me: “Why? This wasn’t my fault—”

Boss: “I said DON’T ARGUE.”

He stormed off. I returned to the mini-golf booth and spent the day cursing him out in my mind. I never saw the guest or her son again, and I doubt they sued the park.

I quit a month later when I left for college, and I never saw [Boss] again. I heard from former coworkers that [Boss] ended up being fired for having an affair with a sixteen-year-old employee.

When I am around seven years old, my family goes to a popular theme park for my sister’s tenth birthday. Since it is summertime, it is boiling hot; that’s California for you. We go to the log rides to cool ourselves off and a stranger cuts in front of us in line.

Dad: “Hey, what are you doing? We’ve been waiting in line for twenty minutes!”

Stranger: “I’m going to overheat! I deserve this spot more than you!”

Mom: “Ma’am, you can wait in line like everybody else. Just because you’re hot, it doesn’t mean you get to cut in front of everybody.”

A kind worker comes over.

Worker: “What is going on?”

Mom: “This woman cut u—”

Stranger: *Cutting her off* “THEY CUT ME!”

Dad: “Ma’am, I’m pretty sure you did.”

Stranger: “HE’S LYING! I GOT THIS SPOT FAIR AND SQUARE!”

Worker: “I’ll go check the surveillance.”

He comes back and looks at the EP.

Worker: “Miss, according to the surveillance, you cut them out of nowhere. I’m going to have to ask you to go to the back or leave.”

Stranger: “What?! That’s not fair!”

Worker: “If you’re not going to go to the back of the line, I’ll have to call security to ban you. You’re being a bother to everybody else.”

The woman scoffs, rolling her eyes as she leaves. But she doesn’t leave in silence.

Stranger: “YOU ALL DESERVE TO BURN IN H***!”

Then, she left the line and the place entirely; we didn’t see her anywhere else in the park.

I’m at the amusement park with my family. My mom and a few of my family members decide to sit this ride out since they’re not a huge fan of water rides, so my two little sisters, my cousin, my best friend, and I decide to ride the Water Rapids. The line for the ride is around an hour or so long, and we think it won’t be too bad since wait times at amusement parks tend to be overestimated to give guests buffer time.

We get in line, and around five minutes in, one guy decides to go ahead of the line because a group of his friends went ahead and saved the spot in line for the rest of their group. As he passes by the family of four in front of us, the mom and dad immediately complain.

Dad: “Hey, you can’t do that, man. That’s unfair.”

Guy #1: “Oh, no, my friends went ahead of the line for me, so I’m just meeting them.”

And he proceeds to bolt past them.

The mom and dad shake their heads and go back to talking to their kids. Two minutes later, another guy comes past everyone behind us and past us before being stopped by the mom and dad.

Mom: “Hey. No. This is not okay. You need to go to the back of the line.”

Guy #2: “My friends are at the front of the line. We got split up because I needed to use the restroom, so they said they’d go to save me a spot and I could meet up with them.”

Dad: “That’s not fair.”

Mom: “This is not okay. You’re making everyone wait longer now, and my daughter looks like she’s about to pass out from the heat.”

Daughter: *Embarrassed* “Mom, I’m fine.”

The guy tries to get through, and the mom begins to block him like it’s defense in basketball, so he doesn’t go past them in the line. His friend then calls him on his phone.

Guy #2: “Yeah, I’m still in the back of the line. Mr. and Mrs. Jerk here aren’t letting me through.”

My whole family starts laughing, and others around us even let out a laugh, as well.

He ends up standing with us.

Guy #2: “I’m sorry for cutting in front of you.”

Me: “No worries, it’s not a big deal.”

My sisters and everyone else agree with me since we really don’t think it’s something to argue about.

Me: “It’s really fine. I feel like everyone saves a spot in line when you have a big group at the amusement parks.”

The mom then turns around and looks at me.

Mom: “Oh, so you think it’s okay to cut people in line?”

I get heated because it wasn’t a conversation I was trying to have with her.

Me: “One, I wasn’t talking to you, and two, don’t tell me you’ve never cut anyone else in line in your entire life.”

Mom: “See, this is what’s wrong with this generation; they don’t know right from wrong.”

My sisters, who are seventeen and sixteen, jump in.

Sister #1: “Okay, I’m sorry, but when did this become a generational issue?”

Sister #2: “If you want to talk about generations, let’s mention how your generation basically left all the f***** up things to our generation to fix.”

Sister #1: “We can keep going if you’d like, because I would love to know who you voted for.”

The mom has no response to what we say, and the guy in line with us just keeps laughing and agreeing with the words we are throwing at her.

Sister #2: “This is about someone that is ‘cutting the line,’ and even if he was cutting, THIS WILL NOT MATTER IN THREE HOURS, LADY.”

The couple stays quiet for the time being.

Five minutes later, we see another group of people cutting the line, and, still heated over all of this, I yell out:

Me: “Oh, my gosh! Look at those people! They’re cutting the line and making it wayyyyy longer for you guys to get to the ride. Are you going to stop them?”

We get no response from the mom and dad, and we just sigh, finding it ridiculous how they handled an unnecessary situation.

We finally get to the front of the line, and everyone is able to go with their groups and ride the ride. At the end of the ride, the family’s boat is next to ours, and my little sister ends the whole ride experience with:

Sister #2: “SO, DID YOU GUYS ENJOY THE RIDE?”