Don’t Want To Be In This Club Anymore

, , , , , , | Friendly | June 21, 2018

(I have volunteered at a kids’ carnival in my town for the last 15 years, since I was a kid myself. I have never had issues and I am always hard-working, despite a lack of people helping each and every year. It runs about four hours long, but it makes me happy to just help out. I am running the putt-putt golf game; basically, you shoot the ball into the hole from two feet away. Kids of any age can play. I am supplied the clubs and foam balls. This lady comes up and gives me her ticket and her kid plays. He doesn’t make it in, but I give him a prize, anyway. The mom is livid and she rips the club out of the kid’s hand.)

Kid’s Mom: “What the f***?! Are you trying to kill my kid here with these iron clubs?!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s plastic, and please stop yelling.”

Kid’s Mom: “F*** you! You’re trying to kill my kid!”

(She starts yelling and swinging the club, brushing my arm.)

Kid’s Mom: “I’m calling my husband to bring new clubs here!”

(And like that, she takes the clubs from the game and storms off. I have to go explain to the event chief what she has done and that I cant run the game. If that wasn’t bad enough, a police officer comes up to me:)

Officer: “Are you the one running the golf game?”

(When I say yes, he puts me in handcuffs!)

Officer: “You’re being arrested for endangering a child, and groping a child and their mother.”

Me: *livid* “I have witnesses!”

Officer: “It’s your word versus hers.”

(She was distraught and crying right then to the officer’s partner. Thank God there were cameras in the school and it recorded everything to show I was right. The police said she was not going to be punished for this; that it was just an honest mistake. Since this happened, the school does not want me back, just in case, because of this woman and her complaint… all because she didn’t like the clubs I was supplied. Furthermore, I got charged for those clubs, since they did not get returned.)

A Storm In A Plastic Cup

, , , , | Right | April 21, 2018

(I’m working as a traffic director at the state fair with several other people. We all have radios. I’m directing traffic along a road with a few other directors, all about a yard apart.)

Radio: “Come in, supervisor. We have a problem.”

Supervisor: “Yes, what’s the problem?”

Radio: “Um… There’s an old lady here at the tracks. She’s driving around the track and throwing plastic cups at people. She’s mad. I need backup.”

Supervisor: *stifled laughter* “I’m on my way.”

(The call ended, and my whole line was doubled over in laughter. The job was dull but calls like that made it.)

Not As Sour As The Customer

, , , | Right | April 11, 2018

(Every summer, my town hosts a big fair. I am working at said fair, serving drinks, when a woman comes up and orders a lemonade.)

Me: “One lemonade, coming right up!”

(All drinks are made fresh in front of the customer. I have just finished adding sugar to the water and lemon juice when the woman starts screaming at me.)

Woman: “Hey! Did you just put sugar in my lemonade?!”

Me: “Uh… Yes.”

Woman: “What’s wrong with you?! It’s mandatory that you ask people if they want sugar in their drinks before making them! There are people out there with diabetes!”

(Having worked in food services for a while, I know this is pure BS, but I remain polite.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll make you a new one. No sugar in this one, right?”

Woman: “D*** straight!”

(I give her the sugarless lemonade. She takes a sip and makes a face before tossing the drink in the trash.)

Woman: “It’s too sour!”

Don’t Have A Cow, Ma’am

, , , , , , , , | Right | March 19, 2018

(I am volunteering at a local agricultural fair that takes place in my county every year. Participants are exhibiting livestock such as cows, horses, goats, and chickens. All the animals on the fairgrounds are being housed in large barns that are open to the fairgoers. My job is to supervise one of the barns and make sure that people are safely interacting with the animals. The particular barn I am assigned to is one that houses goats and cows. I notice a woman and her five-year-old son going up to a pen with a very large bull in it. This particular breed of bull is known for being aggressive to humans.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. I would advise to you not to get too close to the bull, as he is not very friendly towards humans.”

Woman: “Oh, don’t worry about it. I understand animals and their behavior. I have three dogs at home!”

Me: “Right. It’s just that bulls can act very unpredictably towards humans, and we have had some instances in the past where guests were harmed by the animals.

Woman: “I am not an idiot. Don’t tell me how to properly interact with the animals.”

(I shrug it off and walk away, thinking nothing of it. A couple moments later, I turn back around to see the mother trying to boost her son up over the fence into the bull’s pen.)

Me: “Ma’am, what do you think you’re doing?”

(I rush over to the pen and call security.)

Woman: “I want my son to get a better look at the cow!”

Me: “For God’s sake, please stop! You can seriously hurt your son!”

(Fortunately, security arrived. They were able to escort the woman off the fairgrounds. To this day, that remains, by far, the most shocking and unbelievable interaction I have had with a fairgoer!)

When It Pays To Be Materialistic

, , , | Right | February 28, 2018

(I make and sell embroidered and cross-stitched cards. My designs are quite elaborate and I use good quality materials, so my prices are quite high. I set my stall at multiple fairs in many locations, and this happens when I’m in quite a small town. Most customers and about half of sellers are locals, and there’s a local elderly lady with cross-stitched cards, simpler and cheaper than mine. We’re on good terms, and she only sets her stall at this particular fair. This situation happens a few times during a two-day fair.)

Customer: “I’d like a wedding card.”

Me: *showing cards* “I can add the newlyweds’ names and wedding date, too. These cards are [price #1], and these are [price #2].”

Customer: “How much?! [Elderly Lady] sells hers for [price #3], less than half of your prices!”

Me: “Well, then, you are welcome to buy your card from [Elderly Lady].”

Customer: “But your cards look so much better!”

Me: “This is why they are from [price #1] to [price #2].”


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