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The Mother Of All Thieves

, , , , , | Right | May 27, 2016

(I work part-time at a dance studio and notice that I can’t find my iPad. After some detective work with security footage, I see a woman, [Customer], clearly swipe it off the bench in a practice room and walk out with her daughter, who was taking lessons. My boss looks the woman up in the system and calls the number on file.)

Boss: “Hi, Mrs. [Customer], this is [Boss] from [Studio]. I’m calling about a misunderstanding that occurred during your daughter’s lesson on [date]. After reviewing security footage, we’ve determined that you may have accidentally ended up with my employee’s personal property. Give me call back and we can clear this right up!”

(Several days go by. They hear nothing. He calls again, stressing that he’s SURE it was an accident and all he wants is for me to get my property back. Still nothing. Then he tries a different tactic: the woman’s father, who lives in the same town, is the emergency contact. He calls the father and again explains the situation.)

Father: “Oh, did she? I’ll ask her about that. She’ll call you tomorrow.”

(The next day, this is the first thing out of her mouth:)

Customer: “I have to say, I am really disappointed in the way that you’re handling this. I can’t bring it in this week so you’ll have to wait until my daughter’s next lesson.”

Boss: “That’s fine, ma’am. As long as everyone ends up with everything that belongs to them at the end of the day.”

(The next lesson, the woman doesn’t even go into the building. She sends her six-year-old daughter to the front desk with the iPad.)

Daughter: “My mom asked me to give you this. She said she thought it was a book.”

(That lady better hope I never run into her. Way to involve your child in THEFT.)

The Curse Of The Irish

| Learning | August 17, 2015

(We are in dance class, discussing whether we should organise a cultural smorgasbord for some younger students.)

Teacher: *mid-explanation* “…so you would teach the kids a short sequence, and each bring in a sample of food from your chosen country.”

Student #1: “I don’t want to do this!”

Teacher: “Why not?”

Student #1: “I’m doing Irish dancing! What’s Irish food? That’s basically just… potatoes?”

Student #2: “You could bring in chips! Those are potatoes!”

(Student #2 pauses)

Student #2: “Or beer!”

He Can Hop Along Back To Jerksville

| Friendly | October 31, 2014

(I am a large woman, but I am quite graceful and a pretty good dancer. I typically have a good time at these swing dances, but always encounter at least one jerk who doesn’t want to dance with the ‘fat girl.’ This night was no exception.)

Jerk: “Man, all of the girls tonight are newbies. None of them know how to Lindy!”

Me: “Oh, I love the Lindy Hop! It’s one of my favorites! Want to dance next song?”

Jerk: *snorts* “As IF I would dance with a cow like you! Stop trying to impress me by lying. I’m not interested.”

(At that moment, my friend, who is one of my favorite dance partners, walks by and stops dead in his tracks.)

Friend: “I’ll dance with you, [My Name].”

Jerk: “Come on, dude. She can’t dance!”

Friend: “I’ll take my chances.”

(We went out to the middle of the floor and we did a very complicated routine, all the while not breaking eye contact with the jerk. About half an hour later…)

Jerk: “So… do you want to—”

Me: “Nah. Remember, I can’t dance!”

Revenge Is Sweat

, | Learning | June 14, 2013

(I am overweight, but have been losing weight through the Zumba dance program. I have been doing half-hour classes and feel ready to start on the hour-long classes on top of those. My Zumba teacher is delighted, but this one particular newcomer… not so much.)

Newcomer: *to me* “Oh my GOD! You should not be here! The class hasn’t even started and you’re sweating like a pig! Do us all a favor and get out of here before you kill us with your stink!”

Me: “Excuse me, but I just finished the half-hour class that just ended. If I weren’t sweating, I would be worried.”

Newcomer: “Liar! You probably can’t even dance! You’ll just drag everyone down, so get out of here!”

(The instructor hears this and comes over.)

Instructor: “In this gym, we accept any and all who want to live a more fit life. Whether you think she can dance or keep up is a moot point. She is just as welcome as you are. Now get in line. Class is about to begin.”

(Since I have been doing this program for months, I dance like a madwoman and push to the very end. The newcomer struggles with one of the faster routines and sits out after only fifteen minutes of working out. After everyone else finishes…)

Instructor: “Very good, everyone. You all did a great job, whether you lasted for fifteen minutes, half the class, or the full hour… or if you were a bada** like [my name] and did both the half-hour and the hour-long classes! She kicked some major butt today, even though some people thought she was going to waste our time! Would you like to say anything to the class, [my name]?”

Me: “Yes. I am a fata**, but I can honestly say that I am bettering myself and I WORK for my sweat. I may go home looking disgusting, but I can at least say that today I worked out six times longer than a person half my weight who decided at the beginning of class that I couldn’t dance!”

(Everyone applauded and the newcomer grabbed her gear and slinked out. She never came back.)

Customers To Keep You On Your Toes

| Learning | March 12, 2013

(My husband and I inherited a dance studio from his mother and we’re both full-time teachers there. Naturally, our five-year-old spends a lot of time with us at the studio. Her father and I were playing "Swan Lake" with her one day in one of the dance studios after all the classes were over when a mother and her daughter came in.)

Customer: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Can I help you? Classes are over for the day.”

Customer: “I would like to organize one-on-one private lessons with you for my daughter.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t do private lessons.”

Customer: “So why is he teaching that little girl how to do a lift?”

Me: “That’s our daughter. He’s not teaching her anything, he’s just picking her up. We were playing a game.”

Customer: “I demand you give my child private lessons!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve just told you, we don’t do that here.”

Customer: “She’s been in your class for two years!”

Me: “Yes, I know.”

Customer: “That little girl isn’t even old enough to be in your class.”

Me: “No, she’s not, but she’s my daughter. She’s been exposed to ballet since she was a baby.”

Customer: “So has my child! She knows culture!”

Me: “I understand, ma’am, but I just can’t give her private lessons.”

Customer: “Why are you letting her do it, then?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve told you already, she’s my daughter. She gets private lessons with me whether she likes it or not. We live together.”

Customer: “So if I send my daughter to live with you, will you teach her?”

Me: “Ma’am, you can’t send your daughter to live with us.”

My Daughter: “Mommy! Look at me!”

Customer: “Oh, she really is your daughter? I thought you were lying. See you tomorrow for class!”