Not Even Able To Volunteer An Excuse

, , , , | Working | February 9, 2018

(My town has an annual fair that has games, rides, and shows, and runs largely due to the work of community volunteers. My friends and I are looking for a particular show and see someone who appears to be a worker.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir? Can you point us to where the next water show is setting up?”

Man: “Oh, my God. NO, I cannot help you, and here’s why: I DO NOT WORK HERE! People have been coming up to me all day and asking me questions, and I’m just trying to relax with my family. What is wrong with you people?”

(After about five more minutes of him yelling at us, he finally asks:)

Man: “WHY DID YOU THINK I, OF ALL PEOPLE, WOULD HAVE THE ANSWER?”

Me: “Well… You’re wearing a shirt that says ‘[Town]-Day Fair’ on the front, and ‘Volunteer’ on the back. The same one that all the other volunteers are wearing.”

Man: *blushing bright red* “Oh. I, uh, I volunteered last year and kept the shirt. I guess I didn’t realize that when I was getting dressed.”

(Later that day, my friend saw him waiting in a line and pointed him out to me. He’d turned his shirt inside out.)

Fire That Glitch!

, , , , , , | Working | January 5, 2018

(I have just gotten a job at a sword shop in the local renaissance fair. This fair is open most of the summer, but the owner of the shop also sells at two other fairs. It’s the end of the day, and I’m just learning how to close out my register.)

Owner: “Next, you compare the total cash in the drawer to what the computer says it should be.”

Me: “They’re the same.”

Owner: “They’re supposed to be the same, but there’s a glitch in the software somewhere that I haven’t been able to fix. How far off is yours?”

Me: “No, they’re the same.” *I point to the numbers and show him that my totals match, right down to the penny*

Owner: “That’s weird. At my other locations they’re usually off by a couple hundred dollars. I wonder if the software company finally got it fixed? I guess we’ll know tomorrow.”

(My totals were never off by more than five cents. Mine was the ONLY register that was always spot-on. After a few rounds of this, he figured out why, and fired the cashiers at his other shops for stealing.)

That’s Been Gar-Licked

, , , , | Working | November 21, 2017

(We’re on vacation, and we stop at a craft fair. A woman is demonstrating a device that can make, among other things, potato chips.)

Woman: “We’re gonna season the potatoes now, with a little garlic powder, a little onion powder, and a little salt.” *she starts with the garlic powder* “Now, y’all don’t wanna use too much garlic—”

(As she says this, the top of the garlic jar pops off, and a bunch of garlic powder gets dumped into the pot, and everyone laughs.)

Woman: *slightly embarrassed* “Ah, that’s okay. Y’all eat it, anyway.”

Found Yourself A True Renaissance Man

, , , , , , | Romantic | September 27, 2017

(This is the second year I’ve gone to the local Renaissance fair with my boyfriend, and the first year I’ve had any kind of money to spend, so I’m quite eager to head to one of the major costume shops along the main street. The capes from this shop are STUNNING, and I have been wanting one for years, so I’ve made sure I’ve got what I think is enough money to buy one. I drag my boyfriend over to the stall to look over which ones he thinks look best on me.)

Me: “Excuse me, how much are these emerald cloaks over here?”

Shop Lady: “Oh, the unpainted ones are [price way higher than I expected], but if you want one of the painted ones, it’s [higher price].”

Me: *heart sinking a good bit* “Oh, okay. Thanks!” *I sigh and whisper to my boyfriend* “Oh, well. I can always get it next year.”

Boyfriend: *smiling as he squeezes my hand* “You sure? I can lend you the money or something.”

Me: *awkwardly blushing, wondering if it sounded like I was guilt-tripping him to pay* “Nah, it’s fine; I don’t need it, and I don’t know when I could pay you back. Thank you so much for offering, though. It means a lot to me.”

(I go back to admiring the painted capes, making sure I knew which cape I’d want the next year when I could get one for myself. My boyfriend excuses himself for a moment and one of the shopkeepers chats with me for a bit. Next thing I know, my boyfriend is back with one of the bags the store puts purchases in. I stare at him for a moment before it clicks.)

Me: “Did you…?”

Boyfriend: *with a smile that I swear lit up the whole park as he hands me the bag* “Don’t worry about paying me back. Consider it a two-week-early birthday present.”

(I’m ready to cry, I am so touched! My whole face warms up as I blush, and I can’t stop grinning. He takes my hand and gives it a gentle kiss, looking at me adorably.)

Shop Lady: *winks* “Just so you know, those capes are waterproof if you ever wanna wear yours after a shower. Say, after he’s gotten home and you’ve got nothing else to greet him in…”

(Now it was his turn to blush as I giggled uncontrollably.)

Entitlement Can Be Disabling

, , , , , , , | Friendly | September 20, 2017

(I am attending the county fair, and I go to use the women’s bathroom. There is only one handicapped stall, and a polite woman using a wheelchair is waiting to use it. She even moves her chair to make sure I can get into an empty stall. Once I am done, she is still waiting, and I notice she is squirming a lot in her chair. I work with disabled individuals, and I know that those with mobility issues, especially those who are paralyzed, can have little to no control over their bladders.)

Me: “Are you all right?”

Woman In Chair: “Yes, it’s just… I’ve been waiting about ten minutes, and it’s getting harder and harder.”

Me: *I knock on the stall door* “Excuse me, are you all right?”

Woman In Stall: “See? I told you to hurry up; people are waiting! We are not leaving this stall until you go potty!”

Child: *also in stall* “I don’t have to go! I told you already!”

Woman In Stall: “I don’t care! We’re not leaving!”

Me: “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but there are people waiting to use this stall.”

Woman In Stall: “We’re in here!”

Woman In Chair: “I can wait, I think. I’m trying.” *squirms more* “Really, I don’t like to cause a scene.”

Me: *to the woman in the stall* “Ma’am, that is the only stall large enough for anyone with a wheelchair to use; you need to move so others can use it.”

Woman In Stall: “I have my daughter with me!”

Child: “I don’t have to go!”

(This goes around for about three minutes. The mother keeps yelling at her daughter to go potty, the daughter says she doesn’t have to, and I try my hardest to figure out how to get a woman who cannot walk at all into a stall that isn’t large enough for her wheelchair. It’s not happening, at all. Even the larger stalls all have tiny doors. The woman in her wheelchair is actually tearing up.)

Woman In Chair: “This is my anniversary trip. I don’t have any spare clothes, or another seat cushion, and I just can’t… I can’t wait.”

Me: *bangs on the stall door*

Woman In Stall: “FINE!”

(She comes out of the stall, revealing that her daughter has to be close to seven years old. They leave, and I move out of the way so the woman in the chair can get in. As I move, an eleven-year-old girl walks over and actually steps over the foot pedals of the woman in the wheelchair!)

Me: “Hey! Wait your turn, please.”

Woman In Chair: “Excuse me. I was next; I’ve been waiting.”

Girl: *stares straight at the woman in the wheelchair as she shoves the door shut and locks it, literally having to push the woman back to do so*

Woman In Chair: *crying* “Please! Please! I can’t hold it any longer. Every other stall is free! Please!”

(The girl ignores us, and a woman comes in and walks straight past us and to the handicapped stall. She begins talking to her daughter through the stall.)

Me: “Ma’am, your daughter pushed this woman aside, who has been waiting!”

Mother: “Oops, sorry about that.” *continues talking to her daughter, notices that the woman in the wheelchair is crying* “[Child], this is actually a very good lesson for you. Look how upset this woman is getting over a bathroom stall. That is ridiculous! You did nothing wrong; it’s stupid to get upset over a stall.”

Me: “Wow! I’d be more upset over the fact you and your daughter are b****es.”

(The mother throws a literal tantrum. Her daughter comes out, and the mother then refuses to move, standing in front of the handicapped stall and trying to get other women in the bathroom to side with her, repeatedly saying, “I don’t have to move if I don’t want to; am I right?” Finally, a woman who has been doing her makeup at the sink turns around and stares the mother down.)

Makeup Woman: “If I were you, I would be beyond embarrassed. First for your daughter’s obvious lack of manners, and then for your own. If you were one of my employees, or if my daughters acted even close to how yours has, I’d be appalled. You are at a community event, and you are a parent. Act like an adult.” *looks at the girl* “As for you, I hope that you do not grow up to act like you are acting now, or how your mother is, because I can assure you it is a mistake.”

(The mother grabbed her daughter’s unwashed hand and stormed out, a bunch of us laughing at her as she did so.)

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