Nothing Going On Upstairs

, , , , , | Right | June 15, 2021

I’m checking wristbands at a music festival when a very drunk man comes to the door.

Me: “Sir, can I see your wristband?”

He tries to show me the stamp from a nearby bar.

Me: “Sorry, sir, you need a wristband to get in here.”

Drunk: “I’m upstairs with the band.”

Me: “There is no upstairs here.”

Drunk: “Oh, I should find out where I need to be.”

Me: “You do that, sir.”

Never saw him again.

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Some Say She’s Still Searching

, , , , | Friendly | March 27, 2021

I am at a festival. A drunk girl walks past me talking on the phone and crying her eyes out.

Drunk Girl: “I keep yelling, ‘Marco,’ but people keep yelling back, ‘Polo.’”

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Captain Cranky Can’t Face The Music

, , , , , | Right | December 31, 2020

I am a singer in a duo. My partner and I are performing at a low-key music festival which many locals attend and where we are well-received. One old man, in particular, seems to be enjoying himself, loudly and tunelessly singing along with choruses. We encourage audience participation, so it’s not a problem. However, after maybe the second song of our set, he approaches us.

Old Man: “Could you let me have a microphone for a few minutes? You’ll be glad you did!”

My partner and I exchange glances at this odd request but try to keep things light.

Partner: “I’m not sure. We’re a little pressed for time as it is.”

This is completely true.

Me: “No promises; we’ll see what happens!”

Old Man: “Thanks so much! Everyone calls me ‘Captain Cranky.’ Just say, ‘And now a word from Captain Cranky!’”

We continue our set, hoping that this will be the end of it. However, after EVERY SINGLE SONG, the man shouts, ‘And now a word from Captain Cranky!’ or in some other way loudly asks to come to the microphone. After ignoring him for four or five songs and wondering why the staff at the festival hasn’t done anything, I decide to end the matter.

Me: “I’m so sorry, but we’re not going to have time.”

Old Man: “But these are my friends! I want to talk to them! This is my crowd!”

Yes, he is seriously arguing with a musician during her set at a festival.

Me: *Still trying to be nice* “I’m sure it is, but this is our set.”

Old Man: *Loudly* “Oh, that wasn’t very nice! That wasn’t very nice at all! I just wanted a few minutes!”

We finish the set uninterrupted. I later spoke to one of the staff members, who apologized for not being more attentive. Apparently, the staff did end up letting the old man get up and speak between sets, but I have no idea what he said. I later heard from my husband who was in the audience that other audience members were looking at each other and clearly felt uncomfortable with the man’s rude behavior.

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Unable To Sound Your Complaint

, , , , , | Right | September 25, 2020

It is about an hour before a music festival starts. The festival is showcasing electronic music, and the musicians are all warming up and performing sound checks. An older woman comes up to where we are queueing.

Woman: “Excuse me, can you please tell them to turn the sound down?”

Security: “Sorry?”

Woman: “The bass is too loud. Can you please turn it down?”

Security: “Ma’am, I’m just working security.”

Woman: “Well, who do you report to? The sound is too loud!”

I try my hand at an explanation.

Me: “Ma’am, it’s a music festival. I don’t think you’ll have much luck.”

Woman: “I don’t care! It’s too bloody loud!”

I quickly — and wisely — give up, but she carries on. She storms over to the ticket office. I can’t hear the exchange, but next thing I know, she draws away from the window with a wireless bank card reader in her hand.

Woman: “You can have it back when you turn the noise down! It’s too loud!”

A man steps out of the ticket office.

Ticket Seller: “Ma’am—”

Woman: *Firmly but not loudly* “It’s too loud!”

Ticket Seller: “—if you’ll just hand me my property back—”

Woman: “It’s too loud!”

Ticket Seller: “Ma’am, I will call the cops—”

Woman: “Do it! Call them! They’ll turn the sound down! It’s too f****** loud! I am in [Public Place] and the bass is too loud!”

This festival is indeed in said public place, but it’s been known about and licensed for some months and publicised across the entire country.

Ticket Seller: “Ma’am, can you please—”

Woman: “It’s too loud!”

Ticket Seller: “Ma’am, I—”

Woman: “You can have this back when you turn the sound down! It’s too loud!”

The ticket seller makes a grab for the machine, but she pulls it out of his reach. He remains calm, as does the security guard.

Ticket Seller: “Ma’am—”

Woman: “It’s too loud! The bass is too loud!”

Fortunately, a policeman shows up in his car. The woman goes over, machine still in hand, and knocks on the policeman’s window. The ticket seller follows her. Again, I can’t hear this exchange, but shortly after, the policeman steps out of his car and walks around to the quarrelling pair. She keeps repeating her phrase, “It’s too loud!”, but the policeman eventually gets the card reader back to the ticket booth and leads the woman away.

Me: *To others in line* “Well. This could be an interesting day.”

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Literal Highway Robbery

, , , , , | Working | April 28, 2020

(I’ve woken up and realized I can’t find my wallet. As I don’t have my wallet and thus don’t have any cash for the bus, I end up walking over six miles down the road to get to the bar I visited last night to see if I left it there. I see that there is some sort of street festival on the road and walk past an entryway to get to the bar, which is now only about twenty feet away. Suddenly, a cop barrels up to me, shouting.)

Cop: “It’s a $10 entry fee to access this street! You can’t come in without paying!”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was a festival today. I’m literally just here to get to the bar that’s right there. I think I left my wallet there last night.”

Cop: “It’s $10 to access this street!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but like I said, I think I left my wallet at the bar. I’m just trying to get in to see if they have it and then I’m leaving.”

Cop: “Nobody can get on this street without paying $10!”

Me: *pause* “What if they work on this street?”

Cop: “Then they have to pay $10!”

Me: “I don’t see how that’s right at all. But I literally don’t have any money and I just walked over six miles to get here. Is there any way I can just go to the bar and see if they have my wallet? I can give you the $10 if they have it, and I’m not even going to stay for the festival.”

Cop: “Not without paying $10! Why don’t you just go to an ATM and get $10?”

Me: “First, I don’t have my wallet, so I can’t use an ATM. Also, my bank is on this street, so I can’t even go to the bank to get it. You’ve kind of put me into a corner here.”

Cop: “Well, you’re not getting in until you pay the $10 entry fee to access this street!”

(I then had to spend a half-hour begging random people for money for the privilege of accessing a street before I finally had enough to get in. And, of course, the bar didn’t have my wallet, so I ended up having to beg for money and walk well over ten miles for no reason. I have no clue how it’s right in the slightest to bar anyone from using a public street without paying, especially if they work on the street or have business unrelated to the festival. But maybe that’s just me.)

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