There’s a small aquarium I docent at when I’m down in the area. I was nervous about being in a public-facing job, especially after reading too many horror stories on NAR, but the people visiting are pretty all right, for the most part. But there was one memorable incident.

Part The First: A Shocking Lack of Maternal Instinct

I was on the other side of the tanks when this was happening, but my coworker told me about it after.

The windows in one of the tanks were being cleaned. The area where the machines were plugged in on the outside was roped off with yellow warning tape.

A small boy ducked under the tape. My coworker grabbed him and took him back to his mother.

Coworker: “Your son was in a dangerous area trying to play with the wires.”

A few minutes later, the boy was back again.

Coworker: “You have to keep your child away from there.”

Mother: *To child.* “[Son], don’t go there.”

Astonishingly, that half-hearted verbal warning was not enough to keep the kid from coming back for a third try.

Coworker: “You have to actually watch your children and physically keep them from going places they shouldn’t.”

Part The Second: Let’s Go Visit the Boardwalk

Pause for a second while I explain the layout of the aquarium. The land is on a slope, so the big outdoor tanks in the back are one story below the entrance and boardwalk. There is a path from one area to the other. Just in front of the tanks, the path passes underneath part of the walkway above.

There is a chain link door across this part that we close up at the end of the day. It reaches up to just under said walkway.

The boy decides that he wants to go back to the upper level. And he doesn’t want to bother taking the long path back to the ramp. No, this child CLIMBS UP THE DOOR like an iguana to try and reach the boardwalk from below. When I spot him, he’s already halfway up this swinging, unstable door.

Me: *Stunned and unsure what to do here.* “Um? Kid? Y-you should really get down from there…”

At that point, blessedly, the aquarium director passed by and saw what was going on. He managed to coax the kid down. I retreated to my coworker, shaken, as Mr. Director ripped Mommy a new one.

Me: “Did that really just happen?”

Coworker: “Let me tell you about what they got up to earlier this morning…”

I sincerely hope that kid survives his egg donor’s negligence long enough to develop his own sense of self-preservation, cause she sure ain’t teaching him.

My parents are bringing my younger siblings and me to the aquarium. One of the staff members is giving a talk about the crabs they have in the rock pool, with some live demonstrations.

Aquarium Staff: “And it’s these adaptations that make the crab such an effective predator. In fact, there’s a consensus among biologists that several routes of evolution all develop towards a crab.”

My dad, the long-suffered prankster, raises his hand.

Dad: “Scientists realised that and tried to speed things up by combining crab DNA with that of a cheetah.”

Aquarium Staff: “I bet things went sideways real fast.”

My dad stands there motionless. No one has ever stolen his dad joke punchline before. His face says it all.

Aquarium Staff: “I’m a dad too, mate. Plus, I work with crabs. Heard ‘em all. Anyway, who wants to see the giant spider crabs?!”

My dad was sulking the rest of the day.

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I’m an intern at an aquarium. While working at the touch-tank, I see a kid swallow a handful of sand.

Me: “Ma’am, please keep an eye on your child. He just ate some sand.”

Mother: *Non-plussed.* “Yeah… he’s only four.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so we both look at the kid again. He proceeded to swallow another handful of sand.

Mother: “He’s still figuring stuff out.”

Me: “Ma’am, the touch-tank is for lightly touching some of the animals, not for… eating.”

Mother: *Rolls her eyes.* “Come over here, [Son’s Name]. The mean lady says you can’t eat the sand.”

The boy with sand all over his face stares at me as if I were evil incarnate, but at least he stopped eating the sand.

I work in the gift shop of a large aquarium. While the aquarium itself is a wonderful educational experience full of science and accurate animal descriptions, the toy section of the store is a bit more playful.

A couple comes over with their young son. The mother is holding one of our orca plushies.

Customer: “This says ‘orca’ on the tag, but it’s blue! Orcas aren’t blue!”

Me: “Right, that one’s just stylized for kids, like the pink sharks and rainbow seahorses over there.”

Customer: “Well, it’s misleading! My son is five. He’ll think this is what orcas look like. You should be more responsible.”

The husband sighs.

Customer’s Husband: “Honey, they also sell a green octopus named Gary, so… maybe realism’s not really their lane.”

She ‘hmphed’ but bought the toy anyway because her son REALLY wanted it. When they leave:

Coworker: “I was gonna say! If accuracy’s the goal, the stuffed pufferfish with eyebrows is probably more concerning.”

I’m working in an aquarium gift shop that mostly caters to children. A woman walks over, giving the entire store a look of disdain. She has three young children who are excitedly running around the store.

Customer: “Is this… everything?”

Me: “This is the gift shop, madam.”

Customer: “But, this is the whole shop?”

Me: “Yes, madam.”

Customer: *Deep sigh.* “I was hoping for something a bit more refined.”

Me: “Well, we do sell some very good quality coffee-table books, and some—”

Customer: “I’m shopping for my children! They’re not interested in books!”

Me: “Well, I can assure you that all of our items are of good quality and—”

Customer: “It’s all tacky stuff made in China! Why doesn’t your store cater to a more refined clientele?”

Me: “It’s mostly for children, madam. We also sell some good quality snow globes, if your children appreciate something more decorative?”

Our snow globes are pretty pricey and very well made, so I hope these will seem ‘refined’ to her.

Customer: “These seem… better. But are these the classiest things you have?”

Me: “These are the classiest things we sell that don’t squeak when you press them.”

Customer: *Deepest sigh.* “I suppose this will do. I was just hoping for something more…” *Gestures to the entire store in desperation.* “…refined.”

Her tone, and the way she looked me up and down with contempt finally got to me. I admit I shouldn’t have said what I said next, but I was also proud of coming up with it on the fly:

Me: “Madam, we’re a gift shop at an aquarium. The only thing refined here is the saltwater.”

She clutched pearls, rounded up her three children, and made her way to the exit.