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This Lady’s Got Balls And She’ll Bowl You Right Over

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: hayden211234 | June 12, 2021

I am at the bowling alley where my brother is a manager, practicing for a bowling league I’m in. A young kid comes up to me and asks to use my bowling ball.

Me: “Sorry, kid. I don’t think you could pick it up even if I let you.”

Kid: “Aww, okay.”

Later, the kid’s mother comes up to me.

Mother: “Hey! Give my kid your bowling ball, now!”

Me: “No. It’s fourteen pounds. Your kid is like seven; he could not lift it, let alone bowl with it.”

Mother: “Too bad! Give me it, now!”

Me: “No, lady, I’m using it. I still have two more games to bowl, and when I’m done, I’m packing up my bowling balls and leaving.”

Mother: “You can’t steal them! I’m telling the manager!”

Me: “Oh, please do.”

Mother: *To my brother* “Someone is stealing four bowling balls on lane four!”

My brother remembers what lane he put me on.

Brother: “Okay, I’ll go check.” *Coming over to me* “Man, that lady’s crazy!”

Me: “I know, right?”

Mother: “Since the manager won’t do anything, give me those balls!”

Me: “No, lady. I paid for these with my money!”

Mother: “TOO BAD!”

She tried to take the balls from me and was promptly kicked out.

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I’ve Always Wanted To Tell A Customer: “Stay In Your Lane”

, , , , | Right | April 3, 2021

I am a server at a sports bar that doubles as a bowling alley. I am serving a private party that told us they would have fifteen people… but it ends up being more like thirty. Our lanes have an eight-person maximum, so the two lanes they reserved are overcrowded and the food they ordered is not enough for all their guests. A man and his two sons (from the party) are sitting at the table belonging to the neighboring lanes, and they order more food. 

Me: “All right, I’ll put that order in for you! Would you mind scooching back down to your lanes? This table space actually belongs to them.”

I motion to the people who bought that lane.

Customer: “There isn’t any room for us over there.”

Me: “Well, that’s because your party has double the amount of people it was supposed to have.”

Customer: “Well, can we sit over there?”

He points to a table in another server’s section.

Me: “If you would like to get a table, you are more than welcome to go to the host stand.”

Customer: “So we can’t just sit here?!”

Me: *Firmly* “These people paid for this space. You cannot sit here.”

He stormed off and got a table and I transferred his order to that server. He went around complaining about me to his friends, but luckily, the rest of the people in the party were very nice and tipped me very well.

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She’s A Bumper To Bumper Monster

, , | Right | February 18, 2021

I work in a bowling alley and we have just opened for the day. The front desk is always left in disarray by the night crew who, understandably, just want to get home, so I always take a few minutes to clean everything up at the start of my shift.

I’m just finishing up when I accidentally knock the display of cards off the front desk across the floor. I’m busy cleaning them up with my back to the entrance when suddenly a woman is looming over me. She is standing next to a man.

Customer: *Snappily* “Four games.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: *Scoffing* “Four. Games.”

She has not once made any sort of movement to help or comment about me picking up strewn cards, which would normally happen in a situation like this. Up to this point, I’ve been trying to sort them as I pick them up, but because she’s impatient, I quickly gather them up into a messy pile and dump them on the counter and then walk around to my computer. It dawns on me that it is not the day of the week where we sell by the game; instead, it’s by the time.

Me: “Oh, um—”

Customer: *Interrupting* “This is my client.”

She gestures to the man she’s with.

Customer: “I’m a social worker.”

We do have a rate for people with special needs that is by the game. I input the price and tell her.

Customer: *Completely irate* “What?! No way! I’ve been coming here on this day for years and it’s never been that price. I always get four games for [price one-quarter of what I told her]! That is not right at all.”

Me: “Oh, well, [price she said] is the cost for one game.”

Customer: “What?! No! No, no, no. You don’t know what you are doing. It has always been [price]!”

She glares at me expectantly.

Me: “I’m sorry. I’ve only been working here for four months and it has always been this pri—”

Customer: “Get me your manager… now!

Me: “No problem!”

I go and get my manager and explain the situation to her.

Manager: “Ma’am, the price used to be cheaper, but that was six years ago.”

Customer: “The guy that usually checks me in only charges me [price].”

Manager: “Apologies, but there’s nothing we can do. Whoever was charging you that price was wrong.”

The woman takes a business card, demands my manager’s name, and then purchases one game at the cost she was expecting four games to be. My manager goes back to her work and I go back to tidying up and answering the phone, which I like to do in a little room off the front desk because it’s quieter and I can hear better.

I finish a phone conversation and turn around to the front desk. The woman is back, strumming her fingers on the desk, looking annoyed at having to wait.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I forgot about bumpers!”

We put them up for small children, seniors, and people with special needs to make it a little easier and fair for them.

Me: “Let me just get those set up for—”

Customer: “What?! No! He wants the screen on.”

Me: “Oh! We usually don’t turn those on until night-time, but I’m sure my manager will let me turn them on. I just need to get confirmation. Are you sure your client doesn’t want bumpers?”

She scoffs about the screen rules and rolls her eyes at me.

Customer:No! No bumpers!”

She leaves, disgusted with me. I end up having to help another customer before I get the okay to turn the screens on. When I go over to their lane to turn them on, I see that they’ve already played a few rounds. The poor guy has zero at this point. She snaps at her client to thank me for turning on the screens, otherwise ignoring me. When they finish, I check the final score and her client has ten while she has ninety-eight. They leave and I explain everything to my coworker.

Me: “What kind of monster forces their special needs client to play without bumpers? It totally looks like she did that just so she could beat him!”

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Mmm, Bowling With Greasy Pizza Fingers  

, , , | Right | November 3, 2019

On Fridays and Saturdays, the bowling alley I work at closes at midnight. At 11:30, we pretty much have the kitchen shut down, and we’re cleaning. However, on this particular night, this group of five people came in at 11:30, and bought two games for each person. 

We thought that’d be it. Well, they decided to order food. Which is fine, because we usually keep one deep fryer on for this purpose. So, they decided to get a breaded tenderloin, fried pickles, and a freaking pizza with ten breadsticks! We had already shut down the pizza oven, and it takes ten minutes to heat it up. Okay, fine. 

The tenderloin was specified to only have pickles on it. So, I put just pickles on it and brought it out to the group. When I was bringing out their fried pickles, the girl who ordered the tenderloin said, “Actually, can I get ketchup and mustard for this?” I said sure, but as I was getting it for her, I was thinking, “Why didn’t you order it with your sandwich if you wanted it, then?!” 

I got the pizza out to them, and everything was fine. So, I got back to cleaning, shut everything off, and such. Then, I realized that they were not even there! They’d all gone to the bar in the middle of their game. After a while, they came out of the bar and started bowling again. Then, five minutes later, I had to go get a mop bucket. One of the guys stopped me and said, “Oh, we’ll be right back,” and they all went outside.  

I finished mopping and they came back in. I went and collected the pizza dish, so I could finish dishes before I needed to leave. One of them had the gall to say, “We’re sorry we’re staying so late.”

It was, like, 12:10 at this point. 

I finished the dishes and my boss told me I could go home. They were still bowling as I left, at 12:30. 

You’re not freaking sorry if you keep going in and out of the bar, in and outside, and keep putting money in the machine to play music.

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Stolen Broken Bowling Balls

, , | Right | October 2, 2019

(This story belongs to my brother, who is also my manager at the bowling alley where I work. This lady comes in demanding his help.)

Lady: “I need help! My car was stolen!”

Brother: “Your car was stolen?”

Lady: “Yes, come here!”

(They go outside and the lady points to her car.)

Brother: “Um, I thought you said it was stolen.”

Lady: “No, it’s broken! I need your help to fix it.”

Brother: “Well, ma’am, I’m not mechanically proficient. You’re going to need to call someone.”

Lady: “No, I need you to fix it.”

Brother: “Okay, what’s wrong with it?”

Lady: “There’s a bowling ball that is preventing it from starting.”

Brother: “Well… um… Okay, where’s the bowling ball?”

Lady: “In the trunk.”

Brother: “Well, why don’t you open the trunk and get it out?”

Lady: “I don’t know how.”

(My brother then opens the trunk and gets the bowling ball and she gets her “broken car” running.)

Brother: “Will that be all?”

Lady: “No, I want to go bowling.”

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