I work in an airport hotel. It’s past midnight when two young women come in, lugging six suitcases. They get a room and ask for help with their luggage tomorrow.

Me: “And what time do you need the porter, ma’am?”

Guest: *Yawning* “Ten pm.”

Me: “Ten pm, ma’am?”

Guest: “Uh-huh…”

She seems half-asleep on my counter.

Me: “At night time, ma’am?”

Guest: *Dazedly* “Huh? Why would we need it at night?”

She pauses, and her eyes widen.

Guest: “No! Ten am! AM! We can’t miss that flight. I’m so sorry!”

Me: “No problem, ma’am. Ten in the morning it is. Have a good night’s sleep.”

And that’s why I always check!

I work at a museum with a ride you can pay extra for. However, the line takes a very long time to get through, so when it’s busy, we have to stop selling tickets quite a while before closing. The exhibit has an entrance and an exit door. I go to put out the closed sign and shut the entry door. A little girl sees me do this.

Girl: “Are you guys closed?”

Me: “Sorry, we are.”

Another girl, who I assume is her sister, speaks up.

Other Girl: “Look, the exit door is still open!”

Three girls and their dad sprint over to the exit door before I can close it and run up to the ticketing desk where my coworker is cleaning up.

Dad: “Hi. We’d like to buy three tickets for the ride.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

Dad: “But the museum doesn’t close until five!”

Coworker: “Yes, but there are still lots of people in line, and by the time we get to all of them, it will be five.”

Dad: “So, if we wait until the end of the line is done and it’s not five yet, can we go?”

Coworker: “No, I’ve already shut down the card reader and turned in my cash.”

Dad: “Okay.”

The family sits in the waiting area for the whole thirty or forty minutes it takes to get through the line. Once the last group rides, it’s a couple of minutes past five.

Dad: “Cool, so can we ride now?”

Coworker: “No, we’re still closed.”

Dad: “But we just waited here for thirty minutes!”

There’s a solar energy company that’s been canvassing my neighborhood quite heavily and I’ve quickly become skeptical of the quality of people they hire. Here are some of the most recent interactions I’ve had.

A middle-aged woman comes to the door, all smiles and full of energy, seemingly well prepared and carrying a satchel and clipboard. Another person stands on the sidewalk a few feet away, watching her. She identifies herself and her company but I only catch part of what she says as I have hearing loss and my dogs are barking. I tell her I’m hard of hearing and can’t understand her, point out the no-soliciting sign that’s at eye level just above my doorbell, and close the storm door and start to shut the interior door. She keeps talking excitedly, perhaps expecting me to hear better through the storm door? I tell her I’m not interested, but she’s still talking as the door latch clicks.

Then, I’m visited by her polar opposite. I see a young man, slouching, looking at the ground and with his hands in the pockets of his baggy khakis as if trying to hold them up, sauntering slowly up the street. He approaches and rings the bell. I open the door and he begins to tiredly introduce himself — he reminds me of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh — I notice he’s wearing a shirt with the logo of the same company as the woman who I’d turned away just a couple of days before. I point to the sign and tell him, “I have a ‘No Soliciting’ sign and would appreciate it if you’d respect it.” Never once removing his hands from his pockets or looking up from his shoes, he nodded slightly and silently walked off up the street to intimidate his next victim with his lack of enthusiasm.

My boyfriend’s parents invite us out for a family vacation — something we’d both be a lot more interested in if his sister wasn’t also invited. She’s the sort who loves drama, and she doesn’t care whose expense it comes at or how much of it is true.

For example, in college, she spent a year telling everyone her brother, [Boyfriend], died in a fire when they were teenagers to get sympathy drinks, free tutoring, and everything else she could milk it for.

I fell off a ladder a few weeks prior to the vacation, leaving me with a broken wrist and a lot of bruising, and I just know she’s going to try and leverage that into a scenario where she can play at being the hero. Sure enough…

Sister: “[My Name], I’m a little concerned. You said you ‘fell,’ but you know you can tell me the truth. Was it [Boyfriend]’s fault?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Sister: “Has he been beating you?”

Me: “Ugh, yes, constantly!”

I see the smug satisfaction in her eyes as she opens her mouth to deliver a sanctimonious speech about how she can get me help, so I cut her off.

Me: “He beats me at chess, he beats me at Go, he beats me at Rocket League, and Overwatch, and Mario Kart… which is just not cool. I thought my Mario Kart game was top notch! If he wasn’t so sweet about it, it would be insufferable. Good thing I love him so much.”

I can see her getting impatient and it’s HILARIOUS.

Sister: “But does he hit you?!”

Me: “By accident sometimes, sure, but that’s why he mostly plays healing and support characters, and I mostly play DPS characters. We both know my aim is better.”

Sister: “…”

Me: “He’s getting way better about hitting our opponents instead of me, though! We make a good team.”

I left her there grinding her teeth and happily sauntered off to go talk about Cthulhu with my boyfriend and his mom. Later that night, [Sister] spotted the two of us sitting on the couch in our usual positions: me reading and him with his head in my lap, dozing and getting his hair petted. My honey is a six-foot-four snuggle kitten and well worth occasionally putting up with his drama queen of a sister!

I am working at the service desk at a grocery store. The service desk also deals with international money transfer services.

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah. My dad sent me money; I need to pick it up.”

Me: “Okay. Do you have your ID?”

The customer hands me an ID. I note he looks to still be in high school. I look at the ID and notice that it’s expired.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I need a valid ID. But with [Bank], you can call up the person who sent you money and have them put in a test question so that an ID is not needed.”

After telling him this a couple more times, he leaves. He returns a couple of hours later with a test question, which is “What’s your brother’s name?”, answer “[Brother].” I fill out all the necessary info and give him his money.

Customer: “Oh, hey can I also get a pack of cigarettes?”

Me: “Sorry, but since your ID is not valid, I cannot sell you cigarettes.”

Customer: “Oh, well, actually, you know what? I do have an ID!”

He hands me an ID and the name says, “[Brother]”, apparently a twin brother.

Me: “I’m sorry. I can’t sell you cigarettes.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “This ID says, ‘[Brother].’ And the test question said this is your brother’s name. This is your brother’s ID.”

Customer: “Oh… yeah.”

He then collected his stuff and left, defeated.

Related:
No ID, No Idea, Part 38
No ID, No Idea, Part 37
No ID, No Idea, Part 36
No ID, No Idea, Part 35
No ID, No Idea, Part 34