(I work at a place that hosts parties, period; nothing else. We have two play areas where the parties start. After 90 minutes the groups move into smaller rooms for food, cake, and gifts. The staff cleans the play rooms quickly and then another party moves in. We can accommodate up to 10 parties per area, per day, so we keep to a very tight and strict schedule. This call occurs too often in some form or another but this lady was probably the worst. It is Thursday.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [Party Place]. How can I help you today?”

Caller: “We’re going to have a party there Saturday at 2:00 or 2:30.”

Me: “Okay, what is the child’s name so I can pull up your party plan?”

Caller: *gives name*

Me: “I’m sorry; I don’t have a party under that name. What’s your name? I can look it up that way, too.”

Caller: *gives name*

Me: “I’m not finding that name, either. When did you book the party?”

Caller: “I’m booking it now!”

Me: “Oh, sorry for the confusion. We are completely booked for this Saturday. Would you like to try for another day? Let me look for openings.”

Caller: “What do you mean, you’re booked?”

Me: “We have parties scheduled for every available slot on Saturday. I have one opening on Sunday at seven pm and a few during the upcoming week on weeknights.”

Caller: “No! We’re having the party on Saturday. His birthday is on Saturday! Who would have a party on Sunday night?”

Me: “I’m sorry; we have no openings for Saturday.”

Caller: “Why not?!”

Me: “They have all been booked by others.”

Caller: “When?!”

Me: “We generally book our weekends three to five weeks ahead of time.”

Caller: “Nobody told me that.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. When did you call before?”

Caller: “I’ve never called before. So how do we get a party there for this Saturday?”

Me: “I can’t book a party for you for this Saturday. I have one spot open for next Saturday at eight am. The following Saturday has two openings at—”

Caller: “THIS Saturday!”

Me: “All the time slots for this Saturday are booked.”

Caller: “Who’s having a party at two?”

Me: “We keep our guest list private.”

Caller: “We’ll just share with them.”

Me: “All of our parties are private.”

Caller: “Call them and tell them I want that spot.”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “Give me their number and I’ll call them.”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “I need to talk to your manager.”

Me: “That would be me.”

Caller: “This is stupid! My son wants a party there on Saturday.”

Me: “I understand that. However, there are no time slots available for Saturday.”

Caller: “Well, why the h*** not?”

Me: “It would seem many people wanted parties here this Saturday and 20 people actually booked one.”

Caller: “WHEN?!”

Me: “As I said, our weekends generally fill up three to five weeks in advance.”

Caller: “Well, that is just stupid! You’ve ruined my son’s birthday! We’ve sent out invitations!”

(This line fills me with dread. We have a pretty decent system to get each party group from the lobby, into the proper check-in room, and then into the play rooms. If a random group begins to show up, they will throw a wrench into the system and we will have to monitor the check-in rooms closely to make sure non-party guests do not slip in.)

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know why you would send out invitations to a party you had not booked. There is no way your guests will be able to attend a party here this weekend. If you’d like to book for another day, I’ll be happy to look at the calendar; if not, we have nothing further to discuss.”

Caller: “YOU’VE RUINED MY SON’S BIRTHDAY! WHY HAVE YOU RUINED HIS BIRTHDAY? I’M GOING TO TELL HIM THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

(She hangs up. I think, as I always do when folks use that line, “Hmm, which one of us actually knew your son’s birthday before today?” Although not on the schedule, I come in on Saturday just in case. From 1:30 to 5:00 we have random people come in asking where the party is for a child of the same name the caller had mentioned, so I can only assume it is her guests. Since they don’t come en masse, it is not all that difficult to explain that there is no party and get them out of the building. A few ask if their kids can “just play” and I explain that we book private parties only and have no open play areas for public use. Our parties are only two hours long so the time span has me even more confused about this woman. She clearly had no idea what we offer. Sunday comes. I often stop in on Sunday nights to get the weekend accounts settled. I am in my office reviewing receipts. The last party is winding down and the staff are getting things ready for closing when the shift manager comes in.)

Shift Manager: “Um, there’s a lady in the lobby who says she has a party booked for seven pm. It’s not on the books. The staff for party room A is still here, though.”

Me: “Oh, for… I think I know who it is. I’ll handle it. Ask the staff if they can stay. It is unlikely they’ll have to. I’ll cover for anyone who has to go home.

(I go out to the lobby.)

Me: “Hello there. Can I get your na—”

Person: *clearly the caller from a few days before* “We. Are. Going. To. Have. A. Party.”

Me: “We don’t have anyone on the calendar. When did you book?”

Person: “I was told there was an opening on Sunday at seven pm. Well, it’s Sunday at seven pm!”

Me: “It is actually 7:20. Our staff for Party Room A has not left so we can accommodate you. How many guests will you have?”

Person: “What does that matter?”

Me: “We charge based on occupancy. If you are expecting fewer than 15 kids, the smaller party package is $175. If you are expecting more, the larger package is $250.”

Person: “WHAT?! That’s outrageous! I’m not paying that!”

Me: “That’s the cost.”

Person: “How much pizza do we get for that?”

Me: “None. Pizza is extra and it has to be ordered in advance. We cannot offer pizza tonight.”

Person: “This is crazy!” *to the two kids standing with her* “Just go play back there. This is crap.”

Me: “Ma’am, they can’t go back there. We’ll need to gather all your guests together for a safety video first and then everyone will go back together.”

Person: “Everyone’s not here yet.”

Me: “We’ll wait for a little while.”

Person: “Some aren’t coming until eight.”

Me: “We can show latecomers the videos when they get here but if they come at 8 they won’t have much time to play. You’ll be going into the party room at 8:30 for cake and gifts.”

Person: “What kind of cake?”

Me: “We don’t supply the cake.”

Person: “What do you supply? This is crap! We are going to play until 10 if we want to. This is crap.”

Me: “Ma’am, we have a system. Our parties are two hours long. Guests play in the play room for 90 minutes then move into the party room for half an hour. That is all the time the party lasts. Now, how would you like to pay?”

Person: “We aren’t paying until it is over!”

Me: “No. You didn’t book this party. We are willing to accommodate you. Members of my staff are willing to stay longer than they were scheduled. I am willing to assist with this party. But it will be paid for before anyone steps through the check-in door.”

(The lady storms over to the check-in door, which is a half-door with a door knob. It also has a small latch on the inside, easy to reach but not visible. It is there so no one inadvertently wanders through. She grabs the knob and pushes but does not stop moving so she slams right into it when it did not open.)

Person: “OPEN THIS DOOR!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, as soon as we take care of payment.”

(She grabbed her kids by the hands and stormed out. The shift manager stepped to the door and locked it. I called mall security and went into the party room for the remaining group whose party was supposed to end in about five minutes. Security got there and the lady was screaming in the parking lot. They got her moved on pretty quickly and by the time the other party kids were leaving, there was nothing to see. We locked the doors, turned off the front lights, and gathered in a party room for sodas. We heard knocks on the door but ignored them. It took the staff about an hour to get everything cleaned and shut down for the night. During that time, there were many knocks on the door. None were answered.)

This story is part of our Not Always Right Most-Epic Stories roundup!

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I work at a large mine in an isolated area. As a member of our Technical Rescue Team, I have been called many times to assist the local sheriff’s Search and Rescue.

One day in late May, when wildfires less than 20 miles away are suffusing the air with smoke, we receive a page to proceed to a canyon near the state line. This canyon has a highway carved into a steep rock wall, with the debris pushed down into the chasm. In the past, our team had been called to the area to remove the remains of drivers who crashed through the guardrails, so we are ready for the worst.

When we arrive, the SO officers tell us a father and his three sons have “hiked” to the bottom of the canyon and are stranded. They actually scrambled down approximately 600 feet of broken rock, and then found that climbing back up was impossible. It is after 5:00 pm when we arrive.

By the time we manage to get rescuers to the bottom and formulate an extraction plan, darkness has set in. I am the first down, making contact and bringing water and flashlights. Other team members follow close behind, and we move the group (father with sons 6, 7, and 9 years old) to the raise point. One of the team members brought a backpack with sandwiches, granola bars, and water. The boys agree to wait for the sandwiches until we reach the top and gobble up the granola bars (I’ll admit, the one I had was the best ever).

The trip back up the fractured rock pile takes nearly two hours, most of the time at least partially suspended on the main-line rope. There are several small incidents (lost cell phones and tennis shoes, rolling rocks, etc.) on the way up, but topping out and disconnecting was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. The family is rushed to a waiting ambulance for evaluation, and my team leader and incident commander examine the other rescuers and me carefully before allowing us to stow our gear and get ready to leave.

I remembered that I had the sunglasses of one of the children in my pack, so I went to the back of the ambulance and opened the door to return them. That’s when the youngest asked, in one of the smallest, most plaintive voices I’ve ever heard, “But what about our sandwiches?”

When we drove away into the dawn, the father and three boys were standing in front of the ambulance eating sandwiches.

(This is actually a happy story, not an angry one! The fairly new cafe/bakery kitchen I work at is mostly run by young, enthusiastic but non-professional workers. Our boss has encouraged us to try out new recipes we find interesting, and if they sell well they’re added to the menu. On this day I’ve baked an apple and fruit cake that I’ve learnt from my grandma. A customer comes in early, while I’m transferring it onto a plate for the display case, and gasps.)

Customer: “This smell! What is that smell?”

Me: “Probably this fresh-baked cake!” *holding up the plate*

Customer: “I smells like my grandma’s kitchen!”

Me: “Funny enough, it is a recipe from MY grandma.”

(The customer buys a slice of the cake and coffee and returns his dishes when he’s done.)

Customer: “It even tastes like my grandma’s cake. Incredible. Did you steal my grandmother?” *laughs*

Me: *also laughing* “Yep, we have her in the kitchen right now, making more cakes.”

Customer: “Oh, she would’ve probably loved doing that. Sadly, she passed away a few years ago.”

Me: “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry—”

Customer: “No, you couldn’t have known. You made me very happy with this cake today! Thank you!”

(The customer has become a regular, returning once a week to buy a piece of the cake — which has also become a staple in our menu. I have by now given him the recipe, with my boss’ permission, but he still comes in ‘for the feeling of having grandma bake it.’ I love this guy.)

(I have not been having the greatest week. First my car starts throwing out warning lights, and then I get word from my mother that a close family friend, my brother’s godfather, has died unexpectedly.)

Me: “I should really go to the funeral, but I’m not sure I want to take my car out on the highway since it’s been acting up…”

Roommate: “Why don’t you take mine? I got it checked out before I drove home for my grandmother’s funeral a couple months ago, and I’m not going anywhere this weekend except for choir practice.”

Me: “Awesome. Thanks!”

(I get to the church where the funeral is being held and hug my brother’s godmother, who has always been “Aunt” to me and my siblings, although we’re not related. I’m sitting beside her while she looks at the program for the funeral, when all of a sudden she bursts out:)

Aunt: “I told them I didn’t want that hymn, but there it is! [Uncle] hated that hymn! I don’t want it sung at his funeral! What are we going to do now?”

(Suddenly I realize. I have my roommate’s car, which means I have her music books, jncluding the piece she sang for her grandmother’s funeral, which I helped her learn.)

Me: “I think I have something I could put in, [Aunt], If that would be okay with you?”

(It is okay with her, and with the organist, and with everyone at the funeral if I could judge by the number of people wiping their eyes. But the best compliment I got is what my aunt told me afterwards.)

Aunt: “You always loved to sing when you were a little girl, and your voice was okay, but it wasn’t anything terribly special. At least, that’s what I thought. Your uncle always used to tell me, ‘Wait and see. Wait until she grows up. It will be something really amazing then.’ And he was right.”

(That’s when I cried.)

(During my senior year of high school, my mother passed away from stage-four lung cancer on the day before Thanksgiving. Since her passing, it has been a really difficult time for my family and with the holidays being right around the corner makes it a lot harder for us money wise. My mother was well known around my school district for being on the school board and volunteering within the community so during her battle and after her passing, my school has been nothing but great to my family. During the final class on the day before school lets out for Christmas break, I am called down to the principal’s office and when I see my dad sitting in the office waiting for me, I am not really sure what to expect, until the principal hands me a gift bag.)

Principal: “I know this has been a really tough time for your family and I wanted to give you my deepest condolences once again for your loss. [My Name] is a wonderful student and your family is well-respected within our district. We wanted to do something a little bit special for your family for the holidays.

(I open the bag and see a bunch of Christmas cards, gift cards for different restaurants and stores, and a bunch of Christmas cookies and candy inside, and look back at my principal speechless.)

Principal: “Your family has been a wonderful addition to our district and we couldn’t appreciate everything your mother did for us. Some of your teachers and other staff members in this school have each bought a gift card to a restaurant or store to help make this difficult time a little easier for you. I have a list of the staff members who helped contribute and I will read the names to you.”

(As the principal reads the list names of everyone, my father and I looked at the gift cards and each of them are worth more than 100 dollars. When he finishes, my dad and I are both close to tears and I am too speechless to even speak.)

Dad: “I don’t even know how to thank you for what you’re doing for my family.”

Principal: “You don’t have to thank me. [My Name] is a wonderful student and all of her teachers love having her in their classes. And [Mother] will be missed by everyone in this district. This is our way for giving back to you for all that you have done for our school. If there is anything else we can do for your family, please don’t hesitate to ask. We are here for you.”

(My dad and I left the principal’s office a couple minutes later in tears. It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done to us during an extremely difficult time. My father wasn’t sure how he was going to get through Christmas after the funeral expenses and the gift cards have helped us a lot!)