Foiled By Oil

, , , , , | Right | April 7, 2019

I work in a bowling alley. During our Saturday night rent-a-lane that started at 11:30 pm — when people tend to drink more — we had a guy apparently trying to impress his girlfriend. He took a running start from the bowling area… onto the approach and onto his lane.

As you know, bowling lanes are oiled. The customer did know this as he slid/skated down the lane on the oil.

What he didn’t know or realize is that the oil only goes about two-thirds of the way down. As soon as he reached the end of the oil, his shoes stuck to the dry part of the lane… and down he went… face first. He was okay, but a little shaken up as he walked back.

There were only about ten lanes going in the small center, but I wanted to warn everybody that this is why you do not go out onto the lanes. I got onto the microphone and said, “Just a reminder… Please do not walk out onto the lanes, as there is oil out there and we don’t want anyone to trip and fall like the guy just did on lane five.”

I got a few small laughs from it, but I think he’d already learned his lesson.

The Police Are A Must With The Pelvic Thrust

, , , , , | Legal | February 25, 2019

This is a story relayed to me by an employee at a small bowling alley that I frequent. It should be noted that the alley typically operates with a skeleton crew due to lack of people interested in working there full-time, so this employee acts as cashier, repairman, and manager.

It starts with a car accident across the street. Fortunately, the car winds up colliding with a large tree that remains undamaged, and nobody is badly hurt as a result of the crash, but the front of the car is completely caved in. Instead of calling insurance or maybe even a tow truck, the occupants ditch the car and head over to the bowling alley.

The group situates itself at a table and one of its members, who reeks of alcohol, approaches the counter. Much to the surprise of the employee, instead of asking for rental shoes or a lane to bowl on, the man demands alcohol. He does look over 21 but can’t present any ID, and he seems like he arrived over-served, anyway, so his request is declined.

He’s not happy but moves on to demanding to bowl against the employee, with the winner getting $1000 from the loser. Because the employee is working at the moment and he doesn’t know the guy, anyway, he politely declines, but his refusals are only met with the man continuing to up the reward money by another $1000. Eventually, he is told that if he does not want to buy or rent anything, then he needs to leave. The man complies at first, but is distracted on the way out by a random stranger minding his own business. The man suddenly whips around and threatens to fight the now-confused stranger, and while no brawl comes of it, the employee is alarmed by the violence and immediately calls the police. He then firmly reminds the man that he needs to leave, but that only convinces the man to storm over to the counter and start threatening him instead. Not wanting to escalate anything or get hurt, he steps back, bites his tongue, and hopes the man will be distracted long enough to not bother anybody else before the police arrive.

The man, however, is quickly bored of threatening the employee and moves onto the arcade games. Rather than play on any of the machines, he invents his own game of intensely and suggestively pelvic thrusting in front of the basketball hoop game.

Suddenly, the man’s friend yanks the man away from the machine and the group hastily disappears into the night. It happens so fast that it’s as though a switch flipped in the friend’s head.

The police arrive and start gathering evidence. Turns out the car isn’t the only thing that group chose to ditch. The friend, in his haste to leave, had abandoned just about every single document relating to his most recent car rental on the table, and the rental car’s description matches almost perfectly with the car that he’d just crashed. What doesn’t match, however, is the registration. The car has a Florida license plate; the form clearly indicates that the car is registered in Virginia. The rental company was contacted, and from there the police found out that there were also serious discrepancies with the personal information he gave the company versus the personal information on the document. This is a telltale sign of fraud and forging/doctoring contracts, most probably done because the man’s friend did not have a valid license and hence needed to fake one with matching fake information to rent a car.

While the man was clearly wasted, the police had no evidence or suspicion that the man’s friend had been drinking that night. Since the whole group had since vanished, the police then advised the employee to keep a small gun on him at work for defense should another incident occur, and to simply contact the police without engaging with the suspect at all if anybody from that group enters the alley again.

Hopefully, the group is smart enough to stay away, though, or at least has learned to keep a close eye on the guy that gets really crazy and stupid when he’s drunk.

Colliding With The Collada Customer

, , , , | Right | January 31, 2019

(I work in the restaurant of a bowling alley on the opening shift, which gets pretty busy on the weekends, especially with birthday parties. On this day, I am working register while two coworkers prepare food — one is manning the fryer and grill, the other assembling platters and plates of food to put up on an adjacent counter for pick-up — and a third makes pizzas in the back. As cashier, my job includes making drink orders, including coffees. We are on the tail end of a big rush thanks to a birthday party not pre-ordering their food, and I am finishing up the line when a male customer orders a collada: a Cuban coffee, which is basically an espresso shot with a heaping ton of sugar mixed in. I don’t think anything of it, and it takes no more than ninety seconds to make the coffee and hand it over after payment. About ten minutes later, while I am grabbing a couple pitchers for another customer’s soda, my coworkers call for my attention.)

Coworker #1: “Did you make a collada?”

Me: “Yeah, not that long ago. Why?”

Coworker #2: “This lady says it’s ice cold.”

(Of course, I am baffled. Unless the machine has learned how to brew coffee with cold water, there is no way it should already be cold. Still, [Coworker #2] goes about making another coffee while I finish the soda pitchers, still mulling over the accusation. The complaining customer moves in front of the register, and it is an older woman, not the man I made the coffee for.)

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I have no idea how this happened.”

Customer: “It was ice cold! Disgusting!”

Me: “I really am sorry. I don’t know what could have caused it.”

Customer: “It was ice cold. No Cuban would ever drink that.”

(I can almost feel my apologetic customer service smile fall into something like my neutral “resting b**** face,” though I try to be pleasant.)

Me: “She’s getting your coffee now, ma’am.”

(Luckily, my coworker has finished and is already turning to offer the customer the little Styrofoam cup.)

Coworker #2: “Here you go! Nice and hot!”

Customer: “I’ll be the judge of that!”

(She proceeds to pop open the lid and glare inside before just walking away, and I turn to my coworker in upset confusion.)

Me: “I honestly don’t know why that happened.”

Coworker #2: “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t do anything wrong. The cup was almost empty; it was just easier to give her another one than start a fight. I hope it gives her the s***s.”

(I agreed with her. I hope it was worth saving $1.45.)

Don’t Get Between Lesbians And Their Balls

, , , , , | Right | August 28, 2018

(The bowling center where I work has a gay bowling league in it. I am also gay, but don’t know about the league at the time. A small family comes in as the league is bowling and two of the little girls start running around in the bowling area, disturbing a few of the league patrons. They disturb a few of the more “butch” lesbians, and they tell the kids not to run around here, etc. The parents don’t like the customers yelling at the kids, so they complain to the manager. The manager gives them a small discount and a few free game passes to come back at another time when the bowling center isn’t filled with leagues. She also tells them how good that league is, and that the ladies probably didn’t mean any harm. About two weeks later, these people come in again when we are not busy at all. The one mother says to the other mother in the group — while right next to me at the check-in desk:)

Customer: “There aren’t any gays or lesbians here, are there?”

Me: *eyes go wide* “Uh… Why?”

Customer: *sarcastically* “Well, we don’t want to disturb them again and make them all upset!”

(I hold my tongue, give the parents and kids their shoes, and send them down to their lane. I am pretty offended; I know what she meant, though she didn’t need to say it that way. I go into the manager’s office to tell her that “they” are back, and I tell her what the woman said.)

Manager: “Do you mind if I tell them you are gay? I want to ‘mess’ with them a bit.”

Me: “Sure!”

(I kind of hide a bit, trying to hear this conversation. The manager goes down, says hello to the customers, and chit chats a bit as she leads into telling them how friendly the gay league is and how they are some of our favorite customers, etc. She then says:)

Manager: “Yeah, even the guy at the desk is gay, and he’s a hard worker!”

(The one mother actually says:)

Customer: “OH, NO!”

(She puts her hands on her cheeks with big, bugged eyes like Macaulay Culkin in “Home Alone.” She tells the manager what she said, and says that she feels badly. When the family comes up to pay:)

Customer: *in a very sorrowful tone* “Hi. I didn’t mean what I said before.”

Me: “Yeah, you shouldn’t have said that, but I know what you meant.”

(They were very nice and sweet as they left. I told the manager how they apologized in their own way, and we had a small laugh about it in the office. She then told me that during their conversation, one of the ladies said, “Oh… Well, he WAS wearing a purple shirt.”)

A Few Holes In Your Bowling Knowledge

, , , | Right | August 27, 2018

Me: *phone rings* “[Bowling Alley], how may I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I was in there last night, and I think I left my bowling ball there. Can you see if it’s around?”

Me: “Sure, was it a specific brand?”

Customer: “Oh… I’m not sure… I don’t think it had a brand on it.”

Me: *mentally sighing* “Okay, what color was it?”

Customer: “Um, I think it is blue. Er, wait… Maybe green?”

Me: *mentally facepalming* “Well, was there anything else on it, like your name engraved, or some other feature?”

Customer: *thinks a bit* “Um… OH! It has three holes in it!”

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