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!”

Awaiting The Frozen One

, , , , , | Right | June 8, 2018

(My boyfriend and I are at a bowling center to celebrate the birthday of a good friend. Everyone is having drinks and my boyfriend orders a chicken burger to eat.)

Waiter: “Here you go; one chicken burger. Enjoy your meal!” *walks away*

Boyfriend: “Hey, [My Name]. Could you try the burger? I think it is still frozen in the middle.”

(I try the burger and the chicken is indeed frozen. We call up the waiter to complain about it.)

Boyfriend: “Excuse me, but the chicken is still frozen inside. Also, the burger is pretty cold itself.”

Waiter: “I’m terribly sorry. Do you want a new chicken burger, or can I bring you something else?”

Boyfriend: “A new burger will do, thanks.”

(The waiter walks away. Meanwhile, I chat with a friend until I see the waiter returning with the new burger. I turn back to my boyfriend, only to see him stuffing half of the frozen burger inside his mouth. I am shocked. The waiter puts down the new plate and grabs the plate with the now noticeably smaller, old burger.)

Waiter: “Wait a minute. Did you just eat half of the burger you just complained about?”

Boyfriend: *while still chewing* “No! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I do that? That would be pretty stupid.”

(The waiter looks disbelieving, but then walks away, probably thinking he is mistaken.)

Me: “What did you do that for? You got a new burger!”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, so? I’m really hungry and I didn’t want to pay for two burgers. It was a happy coincidence.”

(At the end of the evening, I gave the waiter a huge tip to compensate for the behavior of my boyfriend.)

Will Not Be Host To Your Charges

, , , , | Right | November 17, 2017

(I work at a bowling alley, hosting children’s birthday parties. The parents of this party have come up to pay, and are separating the party package into each part, rather than buying the full package.)

Cashier: “The total cost of your party, including the shoe hire, one game of bowling, five tokens per guest, and party host comes to [total].”

Mum: “What was that last part?”

Cashier: The party host, [My Name], is part of the package. They help organise the party, and part of each package goes towards their pay.”

Mum: *grumbles but pays, but later returns to her husband and explains the payment* “And we had to pay for the party host, too!”

Dad: “Why would we pay for her?”

(The kicker? A party host costs $10 out of a $200+ package. Parents, if you would like to take care of your kids for $10, please, be my guest.)

When Losing Is Winning

| England, UK | Related | January 25, 2017

(We take our daughter out for bowling for her birthday; my wife invites her sister and her husband (my brother in law) with us. Despite my daughter being only five he is desperately trying to win, moaning about every miss, and generally being unpleasant. We move on to the arcade games. My daughter sits on my knee and he joins on the next chair, he wins the first race and starts jumping around celebrating. In an amazing act of maturity she turns to me and says:)

Daughter: “It’s okay, Daddy. I don’t mind not winning every time.”

Me: “Well done, that is very grown up. Hey, let’s have one more go.” *to my brother-in-law* “Hey [Brother-In-Law]! Rematch!”

(Again we start the race. This time I put one hand on the wheel and go for broke; every shot is reserved for him. I smash him into walls and we win by a massive length.)

Brother-In-Law: “That’s not fair.”

Me: “It’s a game.”

Brother-In-Law: “But you hit me into the wall.”

Daughter: “It’s okay, [Brother-In-Law]. You don’t have to win every time.”

(He sulked for the rest of the day.)