Age-Appropriate Little Victories

, , , | | Right | May 13, 2019

(I work in a movie theater. I have just come back from my lunch break and am signing into my till again, ready to help get the queue down. A middle-aged woman angrily approaches my till with a bunch of girls and proceeds to talk to me in a very harsh tone.)

Customer: “I understand there was an issue.”

Me: “An issue? I’m sorry, I’ve just come back off my lunch break, so I don’t understand—“

Customer: “Yes! My daughter and her friends want to watch [Film], and apparently, there is an issue with one of them being 11.”

Me: “Well, [Film] is rated a 12A, so if one of the girls is 11, there needs to be somebody over the age of 18 watching the film with them.”

Customer: “Why is that such a problem? For God’s sake, it’s just a film!”

Me: “It’s also the law. I’m sorry, I cannot sell a ticket if there is no adult to accompany her.”

(The woman makes a phone call to her husband in front of my till, holding up the queue even more because there is only one more till open.)

Customer: “Fine! I’ll go, as well. Just sell me five tickets.”

Me: “One adult, four children, yes?”

Customer: “Yes!”

(I sell the tickets to her. The fact that she so obviously does not want to watch the movie as well cheers me up a little after the way she spoke to me.)

Me: *handing over the tickets with a smile* “Enjoy the film!”

Reading Into The Sad State Of The Film Scene

, , , , , | | Right | May 9, 2019

(I’m buying a movie ticket.)

Me: “One for Pan’s Labyrinth.”

Attendant: “Ma’am, are you aware that this movie is in Spanish and subtitled throughout?”

Me: “Yes.” *pause* “Why? Have you had complaints?”

Attendant: *nods slowly* “Oh, yes.”

Unfiltered Story #149588

, , | | Unfiltered | May 7, 2019

(I am working the box office with an employee who needs to be trained in a few things—he knows the basics, but hasn’t worked a busy night. A man exits the theater and waits in the line to buy tickets from my coworker. Neither I nor my coworker recognize him. Note that it is our policy not to assume anyone is a senior.)

Customer: I asked for senior tickets!

Coworker: Alright, sir, just a moment, I’ll take care of that. [To me] How do I do this?

[I have my own line, but give instructions as best as I can—he’s having to learn on the fly, but he’s patient as I walk him through, as is my customer.]

Coworker: Okay, do I just give him the five dollars?

Me: No, you have to click “Sell,” and it’ll take you to the screen—it will say how he paid. [I finish my current customer and look at my coworker’s screen. It appears that he paid with a gift card, and we have to put the balance back on that, or we have to have a manager.] Okay, sir, I just need the gift card you paid with to give you the refund for the lower price.

Customer: I don’t have it!

Coworker: [To me] What do I do?

Me: You’ll have to get a manager.

Coworker: Okay.

Customer: You should’ve sold me the right tickets in the first place! You don’t know what you’re doing!

[I’m already taking care of another customer, and the family behind him has children—they’re snickering at how abrupt and mean the customer is being.]

Me: Sir, he’s learning.

Customer: I SEE THAT!

Me: No one learns instantly, sir, and he’s doing his best.

Customer: Well, while he’s doing that, my movie’s ticking away! You stay out of it!

[I’m utterly appalled. I can’t even find something to say to him, and turn back to my customer, who’s waited with utter patience for me to help my coworker.]

Customer: I’ll just come back AFTER my movie, when you figure it out!

[My coworker stares, just as I do, and watches him stalk away.]

Coworker: …What do I do?

Me: Go ahead and sell tickets. When we find a manager, we’ll explain what happened. I’ll write a note to go with the tickets. [Turning back to my customer, I can tell I’m shaking—I’m upset, as there was no reason for him to abuse my coworker that way.] Sorry about that, sir. Here’s your tickets, and your 3D glasses.

My customer: I hope he was abused as a child to treat you like that. [Scowling, but then he smiles.] Thank you. [Meets my eyes.] You look like you could use a genuine one of those.

Me: [My mouth falls open, and I don’t know what to say to the first part of that, but I’m thankful he’s not angry for the wait.] …Thank you, sir. Truly.

[The following customers are also very kind, and when the line is gone, a manager finally arrives. After explaining the situation, she puts the refunded amount on a new gift card, and promises she will wait outside the theater as the movie ends so that he can’t cause more trouble, and assures both of us that we’re not in trouble.]

The Gift Card That Keeps On Giving: The Movie

, , , , | | Right | May 6, 2019

(A line is building up at the box office, so I go in and open up a second drawer which, due to a broken credit card reader, has to be cash only. I put up a sign and make sure to let customers know.)

Me: “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Customer: “One senior for [Movie], please.”

Me: “Okay, that’ll be [price].”

(She proceeds to pull out a gift card, which is treated like a credit card.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t take cards in this line.”

Customer: “But why not?”

Me: “The reader is broken, so this line is cash only.”

Customer: “But I have cash on it.”

Me: *facepalm*

Pennsyltucky: The Movie

, , , , | | Right | May 6, 2019

(I work in a movie theater. It’s about 6:15. A family has walked in who I can only describe as being the definition of the slang term “Pennsyltucky.” They are in head-to-toe camouflage, they look generally unwashed and unbathed, they have a weird Southern twang to their voices, and they just seem generally aloof and befuddled. It’s a very slow night, so I’m pulling double-duty on both box office and concession while my coworker is on break. The family wanders up to the box office.)

Me: “Hey, how can I help you tonight?”

Father: “Six tickets for [Movie] at six.”

Me: “Unfortunately, the only times for [Movie] are at five-thirty and nine tonight. Would you like me to put those in for the nine pm show time?”

Mother: “What?! But Google says that the time is at six!”

Me: “Unfortunately, we don’t advertise through Google. It’s usually best to check Fandango or our corporate website for show times.”

Father: *pulls out a cell phone and practically thrusts the screen in my face* “Here! You start the movie at six! Look! Start the d*** movie on time!”

Me: *glancing at screen* “Sir, again, I apologize and I understand your frustration, but we don’t advertise through Google. We have no control over what comes up if you search them for show times.”

Father: *scoffs* “But Google says six!”

Me: “Sir, your screen shows six is the show time at [Other Local Theater].”

Father: “Ugh. Six for the five-thirty, then!”

(I sell him the tickets and even knock a few dollars off to try and calm the situation down. I also warn him that the movie is likely about twenty-five minutes in already. I watch as, rather than going into the theater, they all instead go outside the front doors and smoke cigarettes for almost five minutes. I alert my manager that several of the kids are clearly young teens and thus underage, but my manager just tells me to let it go. They eventually come back in and proceed to concession, where I greet them again.)

Mother: *to her family* “What do you want?”

Child#1: “Large popcorn and soda!”

Child#2: “Nachos and a slushy!”

Child#3: “Hot dogs!”

Child#4: “Popcorn!”

(She ends up putting in an order that totals to well over $50.)

Me: “That’ll be [total].”

Mother: “Sure.”

(Out of nowhere, she pulls out a wad of $50 bills, dropping several and not picking them up, and throws a handful of them at me, and eventually one of her kids ends up grabbing the money she dropped and pocketing it. Suddenly, the father returns.)

Father: “Your rock stupid soda machines only have water?!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Father: “I pressed Coke, Sprite, Dr. Pepper… and they are all water!”

(I grab some extra cups and rush over to the machines, worried they’ve broken down. I test each machine… all are functioning fine.)

Me: “Sir, the machines seem to be working.”

Father: “Don’t lie to me! When I pressed the button, the machines looked like they were dispensing water with brown stuff mixing in!”

Me: “Well… sir… that’s how soda fountains work. They dispense the syrup and carbonated water at the same time.”

Father: “Soda is not water!”

Me: “Sir… all of our soda has carbonated water in it.”

Father: “I’m not drinking water! I wanted Coke!”

Me: “Sir, this is Coke.”


(He storms off with his family, all murmuring in agreement and saying how “stupid” and what an “idiot” I am before they run back up to me.)

Father: “That weird guy at the front didn’t give me my ticket stubs! What theater is my movie in?”

(I’m taken aback as he clearly isn’t joking or trying to insult me. He legitimately doesn’t seem to realize I am the guy who sold him the tickets. I also did, indeed, give him the ticket stubs and he thrust them into his pocket.)

Me: “I’m pretty sure I gave you your stubs and they’re in your pocket, but the theater is #3, on your left.”

Father: *confused* “What?”

Me: “Just take your first left.”

Father: *grunting in agreement* “Ugh.”

(The family waddled off. By this point, there were only about 60 minutes left in their movie. I counted, and no less than SIX TIMES did they come back out to smoke cigarettes out front, always with their underaged kids smoking right along with them, and each time taking close to five minutes. So, they came in and spent close to $100 to see about a half-hour of a movie, all while casually dropping $50 bills and not bothering to pick them up, claiming that soda doesn’t contain carbonated water, smoking with underaged kids, and just generally being a nuisance. Gotta love “Pennsyltucky.”)

Page 1/11312345...Last