When working at a museum, you get to deal with members who think that paying anywhere from $90 to $140 a year entitles them to the LITERAL WORLD. Having a museum membership is not like being a member at a yacht club; it’s more like being a member at a Costco. You get a lot of superficial complaints that are easily solved. I especially love it when an annoying member winds up correcting their own problem. 

It’s a busy Sunday afternoon. A member comes to me with a complaint.

Member: “Your website does not state that members need a timed-entry ticket for the travelling exhibit.”

Me: “Yes, sir, it does. I’m sorry for the confusion. Let’s get you entry for right now.”

Member: *Raising his voice* “This is ridiculous! Your homepage states members don’t need timed entry!”

Me: “I apologize, sir, but timed entry will be permanent for all traveling exhibits going forward. I’ll get you a ticket so you can begin your visit.”

Member: “This is no way to speak with a member. Pull up your website, right now!”

I pull up our homepage and turn the monitor. Nothing is listed to confirm what he says, so he orders me to click a bunch of random tabs. Eventually, we come to the part he is looking for, and he’s reading the rules thinking he’s “hot stuff”.

Member: “See, it says, ‘General admission tickets are no longer timed entry and are valid for the entire day of your visit. Special ticketed exhibitions still require a timed-entry ticket for all visitors and members.'”

He stops and just stares at me. I put the last nail in the coffin.

Me: “What time would you like the enter the exhibit, sir?”

To add insult to injury, he ran out of free member passes for the traveling exhibits. I got him in anyway just so he would leave me alone!

I work for a small non-profit museum in a neighborhood of Boston that draws a lot of tourists but sometimes we are a hidden gem for local folks. As I am unlocking the front doors to head inside and start the opening procedures, a woman walking her dog (clearly a pet and not a service dog or even an emotional support dog) approaches me.

Dog Walking Lady: “What is this place? I walk my dog by here all the time, but I’ve never been in before.”

Me: “This is [Museum]!”

I explain the museum.

Dog Walking Lady: “Is it okay to bring dogs into the museum?”

Me: “We only allow service animals.”

Dog Walking Lady: “What if I just lied and told you he was a service dog?”

Me: “…um… you’ve… already told me he wasn’t.”

She just pouts and slinks away. I’m assuming she never tried to actually pull that stunt because I don’t remember seeing her again.

Don’t pretend to have a service animal! It makes life harder for people who actually rely on them!

Related:

Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 8
Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 7
Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 6
Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 5
Doing A Disservice To Service Animals, Part 4

My fiancée and I are in the drive-thru at a well-known chicken restaurant chain. [Employee #1] comes on the intercom — a very fun individual who always likes to joke with customers while taking orders. I order our nuggets with honey mustard, as well as two of the promotional dipping sauces, which are premium and cost 50¢ each. I then pull up to the window to pay and am met by [Employee #2].

Employee #2: “Did you want any dipping sauces?”

Me: “Yeah, actually, I asked for honey mustard and two [promo] sauces.”

Employee #2: *With a bit of an attitude* “Well… those are extra.”

Me: “I know that. That’s why I asked for them when I placed my order over the intercom.”

Employee #2: *Attitude increasing* “Well, I can’t delete the next order. Another car came through, so I can’t delete that order.”

No, I have no idea what this has to do with me.

Me: “Well, that’s fine, but I asked for them when I placed my order with the other guy.”

[Employee #2] repeats the information about being unable to modify the next order, etc., and seemingly isn’t trying too hard to just add the two sauces to my order.

Me: “Okay, so can I just order the two sauces, please?”

Employee #2: “Well, I can’t— Actually, do you have cash?”

Me: *Checking my wallet* “Yeah, actually, I do. Is there any tax on it?”

Employee #2: “No, they’re just 50¢ each.”

Me: “Okay, can I have two, please?”

I hand her a $1 bill, and she stares at me with even more attitude.

Employee #2: “This is a dollar. They’re 50¢ each.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I wanted two sauces which, at 50¢ each, makes a dollar.”

At least [Employee #1] seems to have good customer service skills, and of course, our food was still delicious!

I work as faculty support staff for the business school of a prestigious university. The school has just hired someone to a newly-created position as our administrative services director. Our department has a meet-and-greet with him soon after he starts, and we’re going around the room telling him our interests and hobbies.

Coworker: “…and I’m really interested in Indian history.”

New Director: “That’s wonderful! You must really love living here; there’s so much of that history around.”

There’s a mortified pause as we all realize he thinks she meant Native American history, but no one can quite bring themselves to correct him, so we just move on. He ended up staying for nearly five years and never improved on that first impression.

Every year for Christmas, my sister gets my dad a page-a-day calendar that has a one-frame comic on one side and a joke, puzzle, or trivia on the back. He texts the comic/joke/whatever to his friends or family members when he thinks they would appreciate the humor or he thinks it’s relevant to their life, i.e. a medical joke for a doctor, a classroom comic for a teacher, etc.

I am known for not checking my phone as often as my parents would like me to. My dad is not the most technologically advanced. I am at his house one evening.

Dad: “Did you get my comic that I sent you today?”

Me: “No, I don’t think so.”

Dad: “Really? I sent it to you this morning.”

Me: “I don’t remember seeing… Oh… Wait… Yeah, I think I did get it. I didn’t see it yet.”

Dad: *Feigning hurt feelings* “What? You didn’t bother to look at it?”

Me: “I remember getting the notification that I got a picture message from you, but I didn’t actually look at it yet.”

Dad: “What if it was me telling you there was an emergency and to come home?”

Me: “I’d hope you would call for that, but if you texted there was an emergency, I would have seen the words in the notification. If it’s a picture, it just says, ‘picture message.’”

Dad: “What if I was in a life-or-death scenario and told you I was dying and you’d have to come save me quickly?”

Me: *Starting to laugh* “I’d hope you’d call 911, but again, if you texted words, I would have read them in the notification.”

Dad: “What if I was dying, I needed you to save me, and I could only muster up a picture of myself to send to you?”

Me: “You’re telling me that you’re about to die, and the quickest, most efficient solution you can come up with is sending me a picture?”

He starts acting out a dramatic death scene.

Dad: “[My Name]… Save… me… Click.”

Me: *Crying with laughter* “You’re dying. You take out your phone. Instead of dialing 911 or asking Siri call someone, you find your camera, turn it to selfie mode, take a picture, open up messages, find my name, attach a photo, and press send? That’s somehow easier?”

Dad: “Just read the comic next time!”