(I’m working concession. A woman in a very expensive designer sweat-suit, and what appears to be expensive jewelry, walks up to me.)

Customer: “Small popcorn and a water, please.”

Me: “Sure thing. That’ll be $10.50.”

(She pauses and begins laughing wildly without breaking eye contact. After seeing that I’m confused, she stops.)

Customer: *suddenly looking panicked* “Wait… you’re not joking?”

Me: “No, ma’am. It’s $10.50 for a small popcorn and a bottle of water.”

Customer: *going pale* “I… I can’t…”

(She literally darts away without saying anything else. She comes back five minutes later.)

Customer: “Just the water, then.”

Me: “It’ll be $4.”

Customer: “Are you kidding? You weren’t last time. Please tell me you’re kidding this time! PLEASE! I just… I can’t understand!”

Me: “I understand your confusion and I apologize. The thing is, movie theaters make no money on ticket sales, really. Those profits mostly go back to the studios and distributors who make and release the film. Hence, concessions have to be marked up since it’s where our actual profit comes from.”

Customer: *VERY over-dramatic* “But I paid $10 for my ticket! I PAID $10 FOR MY TICKET! SURELY THAT’S ENOUGH FOR YOU TO MAKE ENOUGH MONEY NOT TO CHARGE ME SO MUCH FOR WATER!”

(My coworker from the next register speaks up.)

Coworker: “We actually make just pennies on the dollar for tickets during the first few weeks a film is out. He’s telling the truth. We really don’t make any real money off of ticket sales.”

Customer: “I CAN’T!”

(She storms away. About five minutes later, a man in similarly expensive clothing walks in and waits by concession. A few minutes later, I hear the original customer, in a panicked voice speak up.)

Customer: *to man* “Honey! Come here now! I need you!”

(He darts away, shaking his head. I’m guessing this has happened before. I overhear their conversation as they disappear down the hall.)

Customer: “It was horrifying! Horrifying! I had to go splash water on my face and do a breathing exercise in the bathroom to calm myself down! Because my heart was pounding so hard! They actually charge $10 for popcorn and water! I can’t do this! I just can’t do this! If I have a heart attack, I’m going to file a lawsuit against this crooked theater!”

(I make sure they’re out of earshot.)

Me: “Did the woman whose sweatpants alone probably cost more than I make in a month REALLY just imply she was going to have a heart attack over $10 of concessions?”

Coworker: “Hey, just be glad you weren’t working here the one time we had to call the cops on a lady for assaulting a manager over a 75-cent price increase on popcorn a few years back.”

Me: “I don’t even want to know…”

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(During college I work as a receptionist at a health clinic. There were four of us who rotate shifts and I often work with a second receptionist who is about 12 years older than me.)

Receptionist #2: “[My Name!] I wanted to ask you if you’d like to see a movie this weekend with [Receptionist #3], [Receptionist #4], and me for my birthday?”

Me: “Sure! What were you wanting to see?”

Receptionist #2: “You should know!”

(I should point out she was a HUGE Twilight fan. HUGE. I’d read the books on a 15-hour flight once because someone told me they were a quick read, but I personally prefer Anne Rice’s vampire novels.)

Me: “Um… Twilight?”

Receptionist #2: “Yes!”

Me: “Oh… I’m not really sure.”

Receptionist #2: “Oh, please? Please? I REALLY want us all to do something together!”

Me: *feeling guilty* “Well…”

(Receptionists #3 and #4 happen to come in for their shift and overhear. They finish convincing me to go with them. They aren’t fans either, so it’s pretty much understood we’re all doing this to be nice to Mary.)

Me: “Okay, I’m in.”

Receptionist #2: “Yay! And the best part is we’re going to the midnight premiere!”

Me: “WHAT?!”

(Receptionists #3 and #4 smirk at me, and I feel a sense of dread. Fast forward to that weekend. We get tickets ahead of time, have a late dinner which is really nice, and then the four of us go wait for the movie to start. The theater is PACKED with a mix of mostly teenage girls and women Receptionist #2’s age. Eventually, one of the “love interest” characters takes off his shirt, and the entire theater erupts in SCREAMS and WOOs!)

Me: *holding one ear shut since [Receptionist #2] is next to me screaming her head off, and glaring at [Receptionists #3] and [#4]* “I hate both of you so much right now.”

Receptionist #3: *also holding her ears* “You didn’t think we’d let you miss this, did you?”

(My keys fall out of my pocket at the movie theater today. I realize this when I get to my car. I walk back to the theater and enter intending to go to my seat and retrieve the keys when the manager confronts me.)

Manager: “Sir! Sir, did you buy a ticket?”

Me: “No, I dropped my keys in the theater. I was going to go retrieve them.”

Manager: “Well, I can’t let you in there.”

Me: “I dropped my keys in there; I’d like to retrieve them.”

Manager: “I don’t know that; you could just be trying to sneak in to a movie.”

Me: “Then you can come in with me and see that I get my keys.”

Manager: “No, sir, you are not going inside the theater.”

Me: “Yes, I am. Excuse me.”

Manager: “I’m calling the police.”

Me: “That’s fine; I’ll only be a moment.”

(I go in, go to my seat, find the keys tucked into the cushion and came back out. Sure enough, the manager is on the phone with the police. I walk over and take the receiver from her.)

Me: “Hello? Yes, I’m the gentleman she’s calling about. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve gotten my car keys out of the movie theater and am leaving the premises. Thank you for your assistance.”

(My friends and I are seeing Star Wars at a theater where you could reserve your seats. We walk up to the box office to order our tickets.)

Me: “Uh, five for Star Wars in IMAX 3D.”

Ticket Worker: “Okay…” *presses some buttons on the computer in front of her* “Do you guys want the G-spots?”

(My friends start losing their minds.)

Me: *holding back tears* “The what, now?”

Ticket Worker: “The spots in row G, in the middle of the theater. Close enough so it’s not small, far enough so you don’t have to bend your head up—”

(Her coworker is in stitches.)

Ticket Worker: “What’s so funny about— Oh. Oh, my god.” *starts laughing, too* “I should have realized.”

Me: “It’s all right. We’ll take the G-spots!”

(I am working in a cinema as a cashier. It is late at night, a few minutes before midnight. A very pregnant woman comes in.)

Me: “Good evening, madame, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Is [Horror Movie] scary?”

Me: “I don’t know; I haven’t seen it, but I suppose.”

Customer: “Okay, I’ll take one adult ticket.”

Me: “Okay. where do you want to sit?”

Customer: “I would like to sit near the stairs, because I’m in my ninth month and probably I will start labour.”

Me: “Do you want to talk to my manager about it? If you do start labour, won’t that be a problem?”

Customer: “No, thank you. I have three children. It happens all the time!”