Forever Under 21

, , , , , | Working | June 20, 2017

(I just turned 21 a few days ago and so my mom and granny decide to take me with them to spend a weekend in Louisiana, to go to a few of the casinos there. I have a current driver’s license, but it dates to when I was 17 or 18 and has “UNDER 21 UNTIL [Date three-to-four days ago]” in red letters in the upper right hand corner. At the first two casinos we go to, they just looked at the ID and let me enter and sign up for their perks and the like, but the third one goes a little differently than we planned. Having gone through the song and dance twice before, I’ve already got my ID card in my hand because I already know what to expect.)

Security Guard: “May I check your ID?”

Me: “Sure thing; here it is.”

(I hand it to him and was expecting to get it back after a few seconds after he verified that I was 21, but NOPE!)

Security Guard: *handing my ID back* “Sorry, can’t let you in.”

(All three of us, almost at the same time, speak up about the decline.)

Me: “What?”

Mom: “And why not?”

Granny: “Excuse me?!”

Security Guard: “It says he’s under 21.”

(My mom and granny are both about to speak when I look at them, non-verbally telling them to let me deal with it.)

Me: “Excuse me.” *I hold the ID and point to the date listed under the “UNDER 21” notice which, as I stated before, was a few days ago* “It also say until [Date], see. ‘Under 21 until [Date].’”

Security Guard: “Sorry, but I can’t let you in with an ‘Under 21’ license due to the law.”

Me: “Excuse me, but I went to both [Casino #1] and [Casino #2] without an issue. Can you get your supervisor here, please?”

Security Guard: “He’ll tell you the same thing, but fine, if you want to waste my time!”

(He pulls what I presume to be an in-line mic and says what I can only guess to be a code for assistance. Afterwards, he motions to my mom and granny.)

Security Guard: “You two can go in, but he has to stay out here.”

Mom: “That is my SON! If you’re not going to let him in, I’m not going in!”

(He just releases a bit of a huff and says more code into the mic, and after a few moments the supervisor comes… followed by a police officer.)

Supervisor: “What seems to be the issue here?”

Security Guard: “He’s trying to get in but has an ‘Under 2’1 license and these two are claiming to be his mother and grandmother to try to get him in.”

Mom: “We aren’t ‘claiming to be’ anything!”

Supervisor: *to me* “Can I see your ID, please?”

(I hand him my ID and quickly I see the supervisor narrowing his eyes before dismissing the police officer.)

Supervisor: “Did you even bother to see his date of birth?”

Security Guard: “No, why should I? It very clearly says that he’s under 21.”

Supervisor: “It says he WAS under 21 until about a few days ago! His 21st birthday just passed!”

Security Guard: “Then why is it still there?!”

(At this point the supervisor just shakes his head and begins to escort my mom, granny, and me into the casino room and towards the sign up area for player cards. After we sign up and/or update information, he takes our player cards and walks me over to one of the machines that checks point balance and perks. He slips my card into it and then starts entering some codes and does the same for my mom’s and granny’s cards.)

Supervisor: “There you go. In addition to each of your birthday bonus and rewards — happy birthday to all three of you, by the way — I added another $21 in bonuses for the hassle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other things I need to do.”

(I don’t know what the “other things” were but when I had to leave the area about 30 minutes later to use the restroom the original guard was gone and replaced with a new one. A quick flash of my player card and I was back in the area without problem.)

Muscling Up A Comeback

, , , , | Right | June 15, 2017

(It is near the end of my shift and my coworker has arrived to relieve me. As she’s putting her money in her register a guest approaches the counter.)

Guest: “Do you have a holding service?”

Me: “What’s that?”

Guest: “A holding service.” *he motions to the coat on his arm* “You know, some place I could leave this?”

Me: “Oh! No, sorry, sir; not here.”

Guest: “Aw, but this coat is heavy!”

Coworker: “Think how we feel carrying our purses around!”

Guest: “Yeah, but you ladies come equipped with something that helps you carry them.”

Me: *without missing a beat, I cheerily chirp back* “So do you. They’re called muscles.”

Will Take A Bullet For This Job

| USA | Right | September 2, 2016

(It is a fairly steady night, as two ladies walk up to me while I am between transactions.)

Lady #1: “Where are your Russian roulette tables?”

Me: “Ma’am?”

Lady #1: “You know Russian roulette? We heard you have it and she—” *indicating the other lady* “—wants to play.”

Me: “Ma’am, I think you mean roulette. Russian roulette is, well, a bit different.”

Lady #1: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, Russian roulette is played with a revolver.”

Lady #1: *finally realizing what she said* “Oh, my goodness!” *she starts laughing a bit*

Lady #2: “Well, do you have Russian roulette or not?”

Me: “Right this way, ladies.”

Tastes Like Rubber Chicken

, | OK, USA | Right | August 4, 2016

(Our establishment allows us meal vouchers per shift to ensure we actually get something to eat on our lunch breaks. At first, employees weren’t able to use the vouchers in the gift shop, only at food venues, but a memo gets sent out that the directors are planning to change that. A few days after the new rules go into effect, this happens.)

Poker Dealer: *looking around at the shelves* “So, we can use our vouchers in here, right?”

Me: “Yep, anything you want. You just have to cover the difference.”

Poker Dealer: *talking with another dealer as they look before he reaches for an item holding it up* “Can I get these?”

Me: “Those are condoms…”

Poker Dealer: “So?”

Me: *jokingly* “Well, are you going to eat them?”

Poker Dealer: “No… but someone else is!”

Me: *speechless*

It Doesn’t Take A Brain Surgeon

| IL, USA | Right | March 13, 2016

(I am a slot technician at a casino, and a patron is having trouble cashing out of a slot machine. This is back when the only way to cash out was to get coins, and many patrons still used coins to play rather than bills. There is a button you push on the front of the machine to cash out, but it isn’t working.)

Me: “Hello, sir, what seems to be the problem?”

Patron: “Your machine is broken! I just want my d*** money but it won’t cash me out.”

(I ask him to hit the cashout button for me. We’re not allowed to hit any buttons while a patron has money in the machine. He does and it doesn’t work.)

Patron: “See?!”

(He mashes the button repeatedly in anger.)

Patron: “I want my d*** money!”

(At this point I look at the state of the machine and realize that it’s in the middle of a bet… He has already bet a credit and the machine is just waiting to spin. There is no way to get the money out until the spin is done. I begin to explain this to him.)

Patron: “That’s bull-s***! I DID NOT bet a credit. Why the hell would I do that when I want to go home!”

Me: “I don’t know, sir, but the machine does have a credit bet. If you could just hit the spin button…”

Patron: *yelling* “I did not bet a credit! I’m not going to spend any more of my money in your machine! You’re just trying to get more money out of me!”

Me: “Sir, if there are no credits bet, hitting spin won’t do anything. If you’re correct, nothing will happen. If I’m right, the machine will spin and you’ll be able to cash out.”

Patron: “I’m telling you that I did not bet a credit!”

Me: “Perhaps your hand slipped when you were hitting the cash out button, sir, and you accidently…”

Patron: *furious now* “Son, I’m a surgeon. My hands don’t slip. I take people’s lives in my hands every single day, and if my hands were prone to slipping those people could be dead! I want you to cash me out, NOW!”

(At this point the man’s wife, who had been sitting down next to us in silence the entire time, reached over and quietly hit the ‘spin’ button. As I expected, the machine bean to spin the reels. They landed on a small to credit win and the cash out button lit up. He lowered his gaze and slowly hit the cash out button. Of course, the coins began to drop in the tray. I flashed a small smile to the wife, who subtly rolled her eyes and looked apologetic. The surgeon, defeated, took his coins and slowly walked away without a word.)

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