I play in an adult volleyball league one night a week. You play four games each night — two games each against two different opponents — and then referee the two games your opponents play against each other.

One guy on another team has a reputation for being a major complainer about the refs. As I’m reffing his team playing, there he is complaining about everything, what is being called, what isn’t, and what he thinks the rules are.

Finally, I grow tired of him, so when he complains after his team loses a point, I walk over and hand him my whistle.

Me: “Thanks for volunteering. Here you go.”

Complainer: “What’s this for?”

Me: “I thought you were volunteering to ref the rest of the game since you seem to think you can do a better job than me.”

Complainer: “Oh, no. I don’t like reffing. I’m here to play.”

Me: “Okay, great. Then you worry about playing, and I’ll worry about reffing. Sound good?”

Complainer: “Yeah.”

He stopped complaining so much after that.

I work at a daycare in a large gym. We have lots of activities for the kids, but one boy in particular loves to draw, so we always give him paper and crayons.

Boy: “What should I draw today?”

Me: “How about you draw me a picture of what you want to be when you grow up?”

The boy thinks for a moment and then nods to himself and gets to it! A while later, he brings me a crayon drawing typical of a five-year-old.

Boy: “This is a picture of me eating cereal!”

Me: “You want to eat cereal when you grow up? Don’t you eat cereal now?”

Boy: “No, this is me eating cereal for dinner! When I’m grown up, I can do that!”

Me: “That’s awesome, but maybe you could draw me what you want to be when you grow up, not just what you’re eating.”

I think he understands, and he disappears with his drawing. Very quickly, he’s back:

Boy: *Presents updated drawing* “When I grow up, I will have two bowls of cereal for dinner!”

Dream big, little guy!

It’s my day off and I go to the gym. I actually enjoy spending the occasional half-hour on the treadmill listening to my tunes and zoning out.

I walk into my gym and head to the front desk to check in, and there are two guys in their late forties or early fifties hanging around the front desk chatting. I scan my membership card.

Guys: “Good morning.”

I nod and say, “Hello,” back to them and then go back to the treadmills.

Nothing too unusual. I probably would never even recall that it ever happened if it weren’t for what happens at work several days later.

I finish up a long, busy shift only to be called into my manager’s office. She has received a written complaint about me — not about anything I have done at work but what I did NOT do at the gym!

Apparently, those two jerks at the gym felt that I was not friendly enough to them when I checked in at the gym. They recognized me from my job as a cashier, and while I did acknowledge them, they felt I should have been friendlier in my greeting to them.

A direct quote from the complaint was:

Complaint: “Even though your employee was not at work, that does not excuse the lackluster greeting she showed valuable customers. Furthermore, you should discipline your employees on where they are allowed to spend their free time. I’m not sure I am comfortable working out at the same place and rubbing elbows with the kiddies who bag my groceries.”

So, even when I’m not at work, I’m supposed to go around with a big stupid smile on my face and greet everyone I see like I’m their best friend in the whole wide world and it’s been years since I’ve seen them?

I could see them being upset if I had been rude to them, but I acknowledged them and said hello. I just didn’t give them a great big “Hey, buddy, whatcha doing? Let me get down on my knees and give you a big butt-kissing!” type of greeting.

And the last part.

I think what they were really offended by is my presence. It’s not that they were upset that my greeting wasn’t friendly enough, it was that, oh, no! They have to go to the same gym with the common folk! The horror!

Thankfully, I’m not in any sort of trouble. My manager showed me the letter because she thought it was so over-the-top snotty that it was funny. She said I’m one of the nicest cashiers she has and that it was straight-up idiotic to think that my job had any say in what I did during my time off. My manager assured me that if they tried to follow up on their complaint, they would be told in no uncertain terms where they could forcibly locate their complaints.

But still, it did make me angry that they tried to get me in trouble on my off time.

I’m working in a gym. A man in white-collar attire comes up to me.

Customer: “Do you have a tattoo parlor?”

Me: “There is a tattoo shop across the street that’s pretty good.”

Customer: “No, I meant here in the gym! Y’all don’t have someone who does tattoos here?”

Me: *Dumbfounded* “Uh… no. We don’t have one of those in the gym.”

Customer: “Why not? It’s common to find tattoo parlors in gyms!”

Me: “Maybe in prison?”

The customer stood there for a moment, nodded slightly, and left.

We’ve since started sharing flyers of the tattoo parlor across the street (and they share ours), just in case.

Related:
Think Before You Ink, Part 10
Think Before You Ink, Part 9
Think Before You Ink, Part 8
Think Before You Ink, Part 7
Think Before You Ink, Part 6

I’m working in a gym. An older lady asks me to come over to the chest press machine.

Me: “What can I do for you?”

Customer: “How do I keep track of how many reps I’m doing?”

Me: “Umm… you count?”

Customer: “Why doesn’t the machine do it for me?”

Me: *Pauses* “It’s just a machine; it doesn’t have any electronics in it. You just have to count to yourself how many reps you’re doing. Some people even use a phone or notebook and pencil to keep track of how many reps they do at each station, which you’re welcome to do.”

She said nothing, just giving me a ಠ_ಠ face, and then left.