I work at a pub-style bar with a private event space. I am a server/bartender, but I’m also the one who books and helps plan the private events.

We’re in the downtown area of a town with a major university, so we get a lot of university-sponsored events. Sometimes these are great – it’s a non-profit institution that has 9 figure yearly revenue, so they typically don’t complain about our prices – but sometimes they’re very, very annoying.

I get an email at about 7 PM Friday night:

Email: “Hi! This is [Some Lady], I work with [University’s Veterinary School]. I forgot that it’s time for us to have our annual thing for [University Vet School] Alumni in the military. We’ve held this thing with you guys in the past, and I was wondering if you have availability on Monday or Tuesday?”

I immediately hated her, because who thinks it’s okay to start planning an event with an absolute maximum of four days’ notice?!

I asked my boss (the owner of the business) if she was one of the long-standing customers I should bend over backward for. He said she was, in fact, a long-standing customer, but not to bend over backward – they’d be paying the same prices as everyone else, and what food we could offer would depend on what the kitchen manager was capable of since it was so last minute.

I pulled it together. Because it was so last minute and the schedule was already made, I came in (on one of my days off) to serve them for this event by myself. Everything went fine, and I was already mentally patting myself on the back for a job well done by the end of it.

This same lady came up and paid. We charge an hourly room fee for use of the space, but there’s no minimum on food and drinks. At the time, the rate to rent the space was $150 an hour plus gratuity – by far the cheapest in town. They’d booked three hours, ordered food, and had an open bar.

I told her the price, she didn’t so much as blink at it, she paid, I started breaking down the bar. A moment later, she waves me over.

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Lady: “I’m sorry, I think you overcharged me.”

Me: *Looks at receipt.* “It all looks right to me. Where do you see an overcharge?”

Lady: “The room fee is $450, it should only be $150.”

Me: “Oh, no ma’am, $150 is the hourly rate. So since you booked three hours, it’s $450.”

Lady: “No, I’m pretty sure it should only be $150.”

Me: “It definitely shouldn’t. It’s always per hour.”

Lady: “Well the person I was emailing about this event said it was $150 total.”

At this point, I realize a few things. 1. People don’t read emails. 2. I don’t wear a name tag, and she never bothered to ask the name of the person serving her drinks, so she has no idea I’m the one she was talking to. And 3. My “book through email only, never by phone” policy is completely justified.

I turned around to grab my phone. I think she assumed I was checking with the owner, who she also assumed would side with her, because she started looking very smug. The smug look dropped pretty hard when I turned back with our email thread pulled up.

Me: “See, when I responded to you at 7:24 on Friday, I said “the rate to rent the space is $150 per hour with all food, drinks, tax, and gratuity additional.”

Lady: “Oh… you’re [My Name].”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you!”

Lady: “…yes! Yes, so good to put a face to a name! Um… so, the rate—”

Me: “—Yes, so as I told you just a few days ago, it is $150 per hour, so the charge is correct.”

Lady: “But it was always $150, we’ve had this event here for over a decade and its always just been $150!”

Okay, so the price hasn’t gone up in over ten years and you’re surprised that’s no longer the case?

Me: “Yeah, we have a few clients who remember that pricing. Unfortunately, we often lost money on private events with that pricing, so the owner had to increase it.”

Lady: “Well, we’re a non-profit, and we didn’t plan for this increase in the budget. Could you refund the extra $300 and we’ll plan better for next time?”

Again, the entire university is a “non-profit.” I know for a fact that this department has the budget for a few hundred dollars extra in event planning.

Me: “Unfortunately, no, I can’t. The prices are set by the owner and are not negotiable.”

Lady: “Well, can you call him?”

Me: “I can try, but he’s usually putting his kids to bed right around now so he probably won’t answer.”

Code: I’m not bothering him, and I’m not budging.

Lady: “Well… I just wasn’t expecting this increase at all! Is there anything you can do?”

Me: “I can talk to the owner tomorrow and email you to let you know what his decision is.”

She didn’t like it, but I didn’t give her another option, so she left. She very clearly expected that I’d be eating my words when the owner found out how she, a “Very Important Long Time Customer”, has been treated. 

The owner did not care, did not agree to a refund, and was not willing to give them a discount since they’d been getting a significant discount for a decade already and if they actually loved our place so much then they should be happy to support us.

My email said basically that, but politely and professionally.

Lady: “In light of this decision, we likely will not be able to host this event with your business in the future. This increase is a massive hardship on us, and we simply do not have the budget for it.”

Me: “I completely understand, and I hope you’re able to find a space that can accommodate your needs in the future!”

She never responded. She never tried to book again. If she can’t pay $150 an hour, I guess they just don’t have the event at all anymore, because there’s no way anywhere in town would charge less than that for an event their size – especially if she only gives four days’ notice.

Related:
A Lack Of Planning On Your Part…, Part 6
A Lack Of Planning On Your Part…, Part 5
A Lack Of Planning On Your Part…, Part 4
A Lack Of Planning On Your Part…, Part 3
A Lack Of Planning On Your Part…, Part 2

Many years ago I was a young adult headed to a big convention in Atlanta, and seven hours into the car ride I realize I left the makeup for one of my costumes at home that I need the next day. I check, and there’s a costume shop nearby that carries the brand of costume makeup I need – score!

I arrive, go up to the door, and the door is locked.

The hours on it say it closed ten minutes ago, and I can see the employees hanging around the register talking and drinking soda. This is long before search results gave you opening and closing times on stores and you have to find them on the store webpage, and I forgot to check. I am devastated.

I pull out my phone to try and figure out what I can do now, if there’s another shop open later or if I can fit in a trip out the next day. An employee notices me at the door and comes over.

Employee: “We’re closed.”

Me: “I know, I’m sorry. I just need some costume makeup for the con because I forgot my makeup bag at home and I’m trying to figure out what I can do now.”

The employee pauses for a bit, obviously thinking.

Employee: “If I get you what you need and bring it to the register will you just walk in, pay, and go? No browsing.”

Me: “Oh my gosh, yes, absolutely!”

I told him what I needed, he went and got it, took it to the register, and then unlocked the door. I walked straight to it, paid, and left with my stuff, thanking him and the other employees the whole time.

For years after when con time came around, I made sure to arrive several hours earlier so I could visit and browse properly and stock up on cosplay supplies without it being an emergency. I never forgot how kind they were to a forgetful cosplayer when they didn’t need to be.

I’m on a bus. A woman is sitting near the front wearing a trans pride T-shirt. A guy gets on the bus, sees her, and comments.

Guy: “Trans people don’t actually exist, you know.”

Woman: “Uh… not true. Move along, please.”

Guy: “No, it’s true. I got a biology degree, so I know.”

Woman: “What kind? An online degree from Dunning-Kruger University?”

The insult was funny enough (to me), but what made it better was that the guy was too stupid to get it.

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Death (Bird kills bird)

This story reminded me of a time I visited the Renaissance Fair in Georgia. I was watching the birds of prey show, and they were talking about one of the birds. I can’t remember now what type, but perhaps a falcon.

The bird was at the top of the stage backdrop structure and was supposed to fly to a lure held by the handler. Instead, the bird suddenly launched itself behind the structure and out of sight. The handler excused himself and went behind the scenes to find out what was going on. But he accidentally left his microphone on, and the gate to the back was open.

Handler: *Panic in his voice* “Oh, s***! Oh, s***! D*** it! Oh, s***!”

Running ensued back and forth, which we could see through the open gate. We could also hear more exclamations from the handler, similar to his earlier outburst.

A few minutes later, the handler returned to the stage and explained.

Handler: “So, our birds of prey are obviously still wild animals. Instead of coming to the lure, he decided that a passing bird looked like a tasty snack and went after it instead. We don’t want to discourage their natural behaviors, so we’re letting him finish his meal in peace back in his enclosure, and we’ll continue the show with another bird instead.”

Related:
They’re Pretty Good At Following Instructions

I am waiting to board my flight, and they are calling out boarding groups. I will never forget this most awesome airline worker who called the first two groups:

Airline Worker: “We are now boarding group ‘A’ as in ‘apple bottom jeans’… and group ‘B’ as in ‘boots with the fur.'”

This got some smiles and giggles from most of the passengers. One guy tries to get ahead of the groups, as often happens, and this same airline worker stops them and says:

Airline Worker: “No, sir, you’re in group ‘C’, as in ‘the whole club looking at her’.”