(A customer comes up to my till and hands me two movie passes and a club card.)

Customer: “Hi, I’d like two for [Movie], please.”

Me: “Here you go, two tickets for [Movie]. Enjoy your movie.”

Customer: *takes out her debit card and puts it in the debit/credit reader*

Me: “Oh, sorry, did you want more tickets for that show on top of the passes?”

Customer: *takes debit card out* “No, I only need two.” *gestures at herself and husband and puts debit card in the reader again*

Me: “Oh… well, it’s just that you keep putting your debit card in the machine but you don’t need to pay for anything, so I don’t understand—”

Customer: “What? OH! It’s free, isn’t it?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “Oh! Okay! Sorry!”

(My friend has spent over a year battling cancer, and due to the effects of almost a year in bed and a severe reaction to chemotherapy, she has to learn to walk again. On one of her trips home, we decide to go see a movie. She’s in a wheelchair, and I’m pushing.)

Friend: “Hello! We’d like two tickets to [Movie], please.”

Cashier: “Of course! With the discount, that’ll be [price].”

Me: “We get a discount? Awesome!” *I grin at my friend*

Cashier: *to me* “Yes, but I need your card first.”

Me: “Card? What card?”

Friend: “We don’t have whatever card you’re talking about.”

Cashier: “But you should bring your card for trips like this. It gets the companion a discount on their ticket.”

(Suddenly, I understand what’s going on. She’s referring to a carer’s card.)

Me: “Ah… I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m just here as a friend. We don’t have a card.”

(I quickly explain what the cashier is talking about to my friend.)

Cashier: “You can’t get the discount without the card.”

Friend: “I don’t have one. Can we just buy the tickets, please?”

Cashier: “Unless you can show me the card, I can’t give you the discount.”

Me: “No, I’m not here to accompany her. I’m really her friend. We’re going together.”

Friend: “Exactly what she says! I don’t have a card because I’m not disabled!”

Cashier: “You really do need to show me the card for this.”

(At this point, my friend is getting genuinely upset, and I’m not happy, either.)

Me: “Listen to me. I am her friend. She’s been ill, but this is not permanent. She’s getting out of the chair again, and she does not have a card.”

(You can see the cashier suddenly understand.)

Cashier: “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you!”

Friend: “It’s okay. I’d just like our tickets.”

Cashier: “Of course! I’ll get you a different discount as an apology. Feel free to sit anywhere in the theatre. There’s hardly any people.”

Me: “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

(We get our tickets, and because there’s still 30 minutes until the movie starts, we decide to head to a store down the street for snacks. Once we’re outside…)

Friend: “Hey, did you see what kind of discount we got?” *shows me her ticket* “Look, apparently we’re retired!”

(We had a good laugh about it, and enjoyed the movie as two ‘retirees’ in our early 20s!)

This story is included in our Wheelchairs Versus Ableism roundup!

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(I am 15, and have always looked younger than I am. My younger brother is 12. A lot of people think he is older than I am. We would commonly go to movies together, but since I babysat and he didn’t have much income source, I usually paid for the tickets. We are going to a PG-13 movie; my mother knew the movie and had approved it for my 12-year-old brother.)

Me: “Two tickets for [Popular Fantasy Series].”

Ticket Agent: “That’s rated PG-13.”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Ticket Agent: “You have to be 13 to buy a ticket to that.”

Me: “I’ve never heard of that. But, I’m actually 15.”

Ticket Agent: “Do you have ID?”

Me: “Not really. I’m 15, so, I don’t have a driver’s license or anything.”

Ticket Agent: “You can’t buy the tickets without ID. How about a student ID?”

Me: “I’m homeschooled. I have an expired ID from when I went to one class at the junior high. It’s two years old, though.”

(I give him my expired id that happens to still be in my wallet.)

Ticket Agent: “This just proves that you went to [junior high], two years ago.”

Me: “Which would have meant that two years ago I was in seventh grade, at least, which means that I’m in ninth grade. Which would generally make me older than 13.”

Ticket Agent: “You have to be older than 13.”

Me: “I am.”

Ticket Agent: “I can’t sell them to you.”

(Dejectedly, I walk away from the counter and go tell my brother.)

Brother: “Give me the money.”

(I give him money for the tickets, telling him it won’t work, because he actually isn’t thirteen. After a few moments, he comes back, tickets in hand.)

Me: “How did you convince him you were 13?”

Brother: “He didn’t ask.”

(We have discount five pm shows during the week, and one pm shows on weekends. People often show up at five pm on weekends wanting a discount, but most are suitably good-natured on finding out that they were using the wrong day’s newspaper to get their information. A customer comes in dropping off his teenage son.)

Customer: “One, please.”

Me: “That’ll be [full price amount].”

Customer: “No, I only want one.”

Me: “I know. It’s full price.”

Customer: “No, it isn’t. It’s discounted. The newspaper says so.”

Me: “Our weekend schedules are different. You’re using a paper from another day. I’m sorry. I know it’s inconvenient and a lot of people make that mistake, but it is full price.”

Customer: *getting belligerent* “No. It is discounted and I will not pay full price.”

Me: “I really am sorry, but as I said, a lot of people make this mistake. I can’t give you the discounted price.”

Customer: “I’m going to go get the newspaper from my car and show you and you’ll have to give me a refund.”

(The customer pays full price for his son, who scampers inside, as several dozen pairs of eyes wait to see what will happen. Many of them have paid full price and will no doubt want refunds, too, if I give this customer one. Then, about a minute later, he reappears with a paper.)

Customer: *arrogantly and rudely* “Why don’t you tell me what it says right here?”

Me: *reading from newspaper* “That says 5:00 at the discounted price.”

Customer: *beaming*

Me: “Now why don’t you tell me what it says right here?”

Customer: *reading from paper* “Showtimes listed are for today… only.”

(At that point he turned and walked off, without so much as a good bye to his son. I think the son at least enjoyed the movie.)

(I’m ordering at the concessions stand at my favorite movie theater. Their popcorn sizes have always been small, regular, and large, exactly as indicated on the menu board. Popcorn buckets of all three sizes are stacked behind the counter.)

Me: “I’d like a small popcorn and a small coke, please.”

Cashier: “We don’t have small popcorn.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Cashier: “We don’t have small popcorn.”

Me: *points at the smallest bucket* “This is small popcorn. I’d like popcorn from a bucket this size, please.”

Cashier: “We don’t have small popcorn. This is regular popcorn. We don’t have small popcorn.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s always been small, regular, and large here. You should probably change the menu so people don’t get confused.”

Cashier: *blank stare*

Me: “Oh well. I’d like what used to be small popcorn. So, regular popcorn. From this bucket.” *points at the smallest bucket again*

Cashier: “We don’t have small popcorn.”

(This exchange goes on for a minute or two. I don’t know what to say anymore, so I reach over the counter, grab the bucket and hand it to the cashier.)

Me: “Please fill this with popcorn and price me. I’d also like a small [Soda] with that.”

Cashier: “But we don’t have small [Soda]…”