Customer: “So, where do you all go when you’re not on your shift?”

Me: “I go home.”

Customer: “Oh, like upstairs?”

Me: “No, to my house. I live with my parents still.”

Customer: “Wait, how do you live there? Don’t you, like, live in the casino?”

Me: “Yes, I sleep under a slot machine.”

I guess Las Vegas is only made of hotels and casinos. The staff of those places don’t live anywhere; they evaporate at the end of every day.

Related:
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human, Part 3
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human, Part 2
Because Retail Workers Aren’t Human

I work at a large banquet dinner where people get a preset dinner of slow-cooked prime rib, pan sauce, mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies. One of my tables has a lady with a card telling staff she is gluten-free/celiac. I go talk to the kitchen to ask about the set entree, and then I come back to talk to her.

Me: “Ma’am, nothing out of our kitchen will be entirely safe since it is a commercial kitchen, and cross-contamination is a possibility.”

Customer: “That’s fine, as long as it isn’t cooked with it.”

I double-check that the set entree is safe, and the chef reassures me it isn’t made with flour. I serve her the meal.

Customer: “THIS HAS GLUTEN IN IT!”

Me: “No, it doesn’t. If anything it has cornstarch to thicken the sauce.”

Customer: “That also contains flour!”

I had to get my manager to reassure this lady that her meal was safe. He told her he had worked closely with the kitchen, and they simply cooked down the sauce to thicken it and finished it with butter. She just wouldn’t believe me even though I had run around to check about her meal multiple times.

Related:
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 11
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 10
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 9
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 8
Free Of Gluten, Free Of Thought, Part 7

I’m a manager in a casino, called to a dispute with a customer. That’s not uncommon, so I make my way over to the service desk to sort out whatever issue is happening.

When I get there, there is a mildly drunk man there who is claiming the ATM gave him casino gift cards. He suggests that perhaps the ATM is out of money.

We stand there for about ten minutes discussing this. And when I say “discussing”, I mean that I repeatedly try to explain that in no way, ever, would an ATM stock “casino gift cards” as a backup to cold hard cash.

Eventually, I get him to take me to the offending ATM, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s a vending machine for purchasing gift cards. It has a HUGE sign above it that actually says, “NOT AN ATM: GIFT CARDS ONLY!”

He tries to show me what happened when he put his card in, and I swear to God, the machine alerts him at every page that this is for buying gift cards — gift cards that are non-refundable in every situation.

Despite going through this whole process, at no point does he realise his mistake.

He doesn’t get a refund and allegedly can’t afford a taxi home. I hope he enjoyed his $400 stay at the hotel… using the gift cards. 

Related:
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 28
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 27
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 26
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 25
The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving, Part 24

I worked at a hotel/casino combo place as one of the evening janitors. So, if someone barfs in the elevator, guess who cleans it up? Yep! Me! Okay, fine, give me the key to lock the elevator and a mop, and I’ll be right back. 

I ended up getting into an argument OVER TEXT because neither my immediate boss nor the people who make the rules could be bothered to come in and talk to me directly. Of course, THEY always refuse to work night and weekend shifts. 

The problem was that all the housekeepers left for the day before I even got there. Naturally, quite a lot of people wouldn’t realize that they needed something until 10:30 at night. I already had an extensive list of duties to perform, and my direct boss was telling me that I needed to tack on catering hand and foot to drunk hotel clients who wanted another towel or some other nonsensical task that wasn’t part of my responsibilities.

The argument revealed that the owners of the hotel/casino were too cheap to have night housekeeping on duty. They were also unwilling to give me the bump in pay or a change in job position and description. It was just one more job I was expected to do without any additional pay, to be a “team player.”

Me: “Well, I guess the hotel guests will just have to do without. I have too much to do with my responsibilities, so no, I’m not going to be able to do that.”

Boss: “It’s not up for negotiation. We had a meeting, and they said you had to do it.” 

Me: “No, I don’t. I quit!“

I feel bad for the other guy working as a night janitor, but not for my boss.

I visited Las Vegas and decided to gamble for the first time in my life. I went to see what craps was because I’d seen it in movies. It’s… not actually as fun as it looks.

I played it safe the whole time and lowballed my bets, but this other guy was matching my bets with larger, outrageous amounts of money. By the time I walked away, I was about a hundred up, which I later wound up spending on fancy meals

The guy who had been matching my bets was something like a hundred thousand up.

Later that night, when I was crossing the same casino floor, the guy confronted me and accused me of spoiling his luck by leaving early. After I left he’d kept betting for a while, and he ended up losing his hundred thousand and then some.

He was pissed and shouted at me about this. Security showed up fairly quickly, and when the guy tried to step closer to me — whether to hit me, to scream in my face, or what, I’m not sure — they grabbed him and escorted him away.

I decided that I was done gambling for the rest of my trip and went on to enjoy the shows, scenery, snacks, and sex of Las Vegas instead.