(I am the manager at an arcade and it is currently our slow season, so we get a lot of groups of people with special needs during this time. All of the groups are awesome, with the exception of this one particular group. I’m in the office when I hear the backroom door open and shut but no one comes on camera. I hear the counselor talking with one of the people with special needs. By the time I go to the door, they are gone. A couple minutes later, my coworker calls me from the snack bar.)

Coworker: “Uh, did you tell one of them they could vacuum?”

Me: “Um, no… Why?”

Coworker: “One of them has the vacuum and is vacuuming.”

Me: “What? Why? Okay, I’m on my way down.”

(I can see the person on camera vacuuming the floor, with the counselor watching him and doing nothing about it. I go down there, and the counselor goes and “fake hides” by the counter, thinking everything is funny.)

Me: *unplugs the vacuum* “Hey, you can’t go in the back room and just take stuff and start using it. Let me have that.” *storms off to the back*

(I run into my coworker.)

Me: “That counselor needs a counselor!”

In the 1980s, I managed a small video game arcade in a mall. We were mad busy on Saturdays. On one Saturday afternoon, when I was on alone, a woman came in and started shrieking at me. She demanded to know where her child was. When I could get a word in edgewise, I told her I did not know and had never seen him. She stormed off looking for him.

When she came back to shout at me some more, I managed to sort out what had happened. The little boy — whom she had with her at that point — was about five. She’d dumped him in the arcade, given him two quarters, and gone off to do her shopping. He was too little even to see the screens. After he stuffed his quarters in coin slots and couldn’t play the games — i.e., about five minutes later — he wandered over to the toy store catty-corner from us to start tearing apart the toys, instead. Nearly an hour later she came back to find — or not find —  him. I told her to leave. Sadly, it was only afterward that I thought of what I really should have said: that if I’d found her son in the arcade without her holding his hand, I’d have called the cops to pick up an abandoned child.

I would not have left a bag of groceries on a bench in the mall, and she just went off and left a child? I kept the known perverts out, but there are always ones you don’t know, and I’m sure a sicko cruising for kids would start with either the arcade or the toy store. She just went off shopping and decided that it was somehow my responsibility to do what she was incapable of, namely taking care of her child.

(I’m working the prize counter at an arcade. A father and his daughter come up, and I count their tickets while they look at prizes. The girl looks somewhat tomboyish, but doesn’t seem to be affected by it. She picks out some planes, and a man watching comes up angrily.)
Customer: What? You’re letting her pick out BOY stuff? She’s gonna turn into a d*** lesbian!
Father: I’m letting her get what she wants. If she wants the planes, she can get them.
Customer: YOU’RE GONNA MAKE HER BECOME A [slur]!
Me: Sir, please watch your language.
Customer: *turns to me* Well, she should be getting GIRL toys! Like rings and dolls and stuffed animals!
Me: If she doesn’t want them, she doesn’t have to get them.
Customer: She’s gonna be a lesbian and then she’s gonna ruin society!
(The father and daughter start edging away. I look around for a manager, but don’t see one.)
Me: Sir, even if she was one, she won’t hurt anyone. I’m a pansexual and nobody has ever complained about it.
Customer: F**** f** everywhere! *runs off*
Father: Oh my god, I’m sorry about him….
Me: It’s no problem. Here. (I hand the girl a few extra planes.) Have fun with those, anything else you want?
(The customer tried complaining about me to a manager, but was told to leave. He hasn’t been back since.)

(I work at an arcade and bar that closes at 2:00 am on the weekends. At 1:30, two women approach me.)

Woman: “Has anyone returned any keys to you?”

Me: “No, no one has. But lost and found is up at the front; you can go check there.”

Woman: “I was over there, and the girl there was really rude to me! She said they only do cleaning in the morning, and no one is going to look after we’ve closed.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Do you want to write down your number? We can call you if we find them.”

Woman: *rudely* “Yeah, but then how will I get home?”

Me: “Right. Well, I hope you find them.”

(I go back to my closing duties, because there’s nothing else I can do. I don’t hear exactly what she says, but she mumbles something to her friend and I hear the word “manager.” I turn back around and give her the biggest smile I can fake.)

Me: “Oh, would you like a manager?”

Woman: *rudely* “Um, yeah!”

Me: “Oh, I didn’t realize. One moment!”

(I call my manager over and he talks to her, telling her the same thing both my coworker and I did: we’re not going to search the building for her keys, and that her items are not the store’s responsibility. Twenty minutes later, I decide to go over to the front desk and see what really happened and if the woman found her keys.)

Me: “Were you the one talking to the woman who lost her keys?”

Coworker: “Yeah, she asked if she should wait around until we close, and I told her we do cleaning in the morning, and she gave me an attitude.”

Me: “Yeah, she was rude to me, too. Did she find her keys?”

Coworker: “Yeah, some guy found them on the ground outside and brought them in. I was so tempted to just throw them in the trash.”

Me: “I would have wanted to, too.”

(I work at an arcade that is connected to a bowling alley. Two men and a woman, probably in their twenties, come up to me. I am only 16, and is quite obvious.)

Me: “Hi! Would you like to purchase a game card?”

Customer #1: *one of the men* “If I put $5 on a card, how much do I really get?” *winks*

Me: “Just five dollars. We don’t have any specials.”

Customer #1: “Okay, if I put $10 on a card—” *leans in* “—how much will I get on my card?” *winks*

Me: “Forty-five units. When you purchase a $10 card you get five extra units.”

Customer #1: “Just five? Can’t you add more for me?”

Me: “No.”

Customer #2: *the other man* “What about a… military discount?” *winks*

Me: “We have military discounts for bowling, but not for the arcade.”

Customer #2: “Oh. So, you don’t appreciate the military?”

Me: “I do, very much so, but I will not lose my job.”

Customer #2: “Understandable.”

Customer #1: “Fine. Can I just get a $10 card?”

Me: “Of course.”

(Later they came up to apologize and get their prizes. The woman never said anything. It was just hilarious that they tried to hit on me — as I am evidently a minor and they are not — just for arcade credit.)