A Naked Complaint
I am sitting in the lifeguard chair when an obviously very drunk and very trashy woman arrives at the beach with her family.
The woman allows her four-year-old daughter to run around the beach without anything on. While I don’t really care either way since I go off duty in twenty minutes, my boss has made it clear that naked children are to be strictly dealt with since the beach is public space.
Me:
“Hello, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to clothe your daughter.”
Customer:
“Are you f****** serious? She’s just a little child; what the f*** is wrong with you?!”
Me:
“Ma’am, the beach policy is that children must be clothed.”
Customer:
*Obviously lying* “Well, she has a bad skin rash on her back! SHE CAN’T WEAR A TOP, YOU LITTLE P***K.”
Me:
“Look, ma’am, I saw you guys walk up; she had clothes on then. Either way, if she does have a bad rash, she shouldn’t be in the water with other children, for health reasons.”
Customer:
“What exactly is wrong with her being topless? Huh?!”
Me:
“Ma’am, the way my manager explained it to me is this: this is public space, and ot only do most people not want to see a naked child running around, but would you really want some stranger staring at your little girl? Certain people go to public beaches for just that reason. Please be reasonable, ma’am.”
Customer:
“Well, you a**holes shouldn’t let pedophiles in! F*** you! F*** this beach! I’m not going to cover my little girl up, you b****!”
Me:
“Ma’am, please refrain from using that type of language; there are other people who just want to enjoy the beach.”
Customer:
“So, you’re telling me if she was a boy and running around topless, you wouldn’t say anything?”
Me:
“Well, no, ma’am bec—”
Customer:
“Exactly! You’re a sexist, misogynistic f****** pig! F*** you, you biased a**hole!”
Me:
“Ma’am, I have run out of patience with you. I have the power to have you removed from the park, so either clothe your child or get off of my beach.”
Customer:
“I want to speak with your manager. Now!”
Her husband face-palms so hard I am afraid he’ll knock himself out.
Me:
“Okay, ma’am, I’ll radio the beach manager over.”
I radio the beach manager and he sides with me.
Customer:
“Never mind! We are leaving. Come on, honey!”
She grabs her child by the wrist and the kid starts crying.
Customer:
“Look what you did; you made my baby cry! Thanks for ruining our nice beach day, you miserable p***k! I’m going to issue a complaint to your manager! I’ll get you f****** fired!”
By now, other customers are starting to become uncomfortable.
Customer #2:
“Hey, lady, calm down! The kid is just doing his job. I don’t wanna see your kid naked; he’s in the right here.”
I swear the lady looks like she is ten seconds from popping a blood vessel in her brain. She then storms off, practically dragging her kid as the husband apologizes profusely. I get off work that day and the next morning my boss asks to see me.
Boss:
“Hey, I got a complaint about you yesterday.”
Me:
“Really? Gee, I wonder who it could be…”
Boss:
“I have never heard a person use so many curse words in my entire life. I don’t know how you kept your cool. That lady was crazy. Carry on, son; you’re doing fine. I know you weren’t doing any of the things she said.”
Me:
“What did she say?”
Boss:
“She said you were cursing at her and making fun of her kid, but another customer came in after you left last night and told me what really happened.”
Me:
“Oh, cool. Yeah, that guy was awesome. Thanks, boss!”
I never saw that lady again, but her complaint will go down in history as the nastiest complaint we have ever received at the beach.