I am setting up the concessions stand before opening. There is a group of men working outside the building. [Manager #1] walks by and tells me that the man in a blue shirt with blonde hair is our landlord. I am too short to see over the box office and out the window, so I think nothing of it. A few hours later, a man with blonde hair wearing a blue shirt walks in just as the men outside are finishing up.

Man: “Hey, can I get a cup of water?”

Me: “Of course.”

I hand it to him and he starts asking me questions.

Man: “So, how do you like working here?”

Me: “Oh, I like it a lot.”

Man: “What’s your favorite part of working here?”

Me: “Oh, I like my managers and my coworkers. And the hours are pretty good.”

He keeps on asking me questions for fifteen minutes, each one making me more and more uncomfortable. Something about this man is… off. He’s asking me what my favorite movie is and when we close, and at one point, he even starts trying to guess how old I am. I keep on answering these questions even though I am visibly uncomfortable, thinking he’s the landlord and maybe just has an odd personality. Maybe he’s just trying to get to know the people who work in his buildings? He then realizes how uncomfortable I am.

Man: “Listen, I’m not trying to make you nervous.”

He repeats this several more times, and the way he says it just makes me more nervous. Finally, [Manager #2], who is not in her work uniform yet, comes in and is about to clock in when she sees what’s going on. She comes up and starts talking to me.

Manager #2: “Hey, how’s it been today?”

Me: “Oh, it’s been fine. Maintenance finally fixed the lights in auditorium one…”

I keep going on about the morning, wishing the man would just leave. He finally speaks up.

Man: “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to bother you guys.”

Manager #2: “Oh, it’s okay. I’m not buying anything.”

She then walks away, giving me a look that says, “Call for help if you need it.”

Man: “Did I get you in trouble?”

Me: “Oh, no, it’s fine.”

I now think that this is definitely the landlord, because he recognized [Manager #2] as my manager and not some other guest, even though she was in her plain clothes. He keeps asking questions and [Manager #2] returns, now in her uniform.

Manager #2: “Hey, can you do something for me?”

Before I can answer, the man interrupts.

Man: “Hey, are you the manager? I came in and bought a ticket earlier but I can’t find the d*** thing. Is there any way I can get a copy of it?”

I know he’s now lying because, one, I’ve been the only person here selling tickets all day and I don’t recognize him, and two, I can see that there are no pre-sold tickets to any of the later movie showings.

Manager #2: “Well, unfortunately, without proof of purchase, we are unable to verify that you bought the tickets.”

Man: “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll just go look in my truck.” *Looks at me* “Will you be working later?”

Me: *Lying* “Unfortunately, no.”

Man: “Well, maybe I’ll see you before you leave.” *Winks*

He finally leaves.

Me: “That wasn’t the landlord, was it?”

Manager #2: “No? He’s a regular. He always comes in and lingers around the concessions stand. He knows you guys can’t stop talking to him because he’s a guest. Just tell me if he comes back, okay?”

Luckily, he never came back.

At the theater where I work, we have a bell at the concessions counter for customers to ring for service. One of the theaters has just let out and we are waiting to clean. A man in his early sixties starts ringing the counter bell repeatedly, so I walk over.

Me: “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

Customer: “No.”

He then continued to keep ringing the bell for no reason.

An elderly woman walks up to me at the box office.

Customer: “Are you guys getting [Movie]?”

Me: “Yup, it comes out this Friday and we have pre-sale tickets available! Would you like to buy tickets for it?”

Customer: “It’s not right, you know!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “They advertise these movies on TV, but they never tell you the theaters it’ll be at or the times it’s showing. I watch a lot of TV, and they never tell you that!”

Me: *Confused* “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I watch a lot of TV, you know! I saw a commercial for [Movie] during [Sitcom], but they wouldn’t say whether this theater had it, or the times!”

I’m amused, but I try to hide it.

Me: “Um… well, they can’t really put that information into a commercial. There’s a lot of movie theaters in the US. The commercial would have to be pretty long to fit all of that information in.”

Customer: “Pfft! Hogwash! I watch a lot of TV! At least they could tell me what theaters it’s in and when it’s playing!”

I ring her up for a few opening night tickets while she continues to go on a rant about how the TV spots for the movie won’t tell her when the movie is playing and what theaters are getting it. It’s actually kind of adorable that she doesn’t get it how the commercials work.

She also tries to convince me to personally change it, as though a minimum-wage worker in upstate New York has any power over a movie studio in Los Angeles.

As she is leaving, she shouts one last thing:

Customer: “These tickets are good at any theater, right? I don’t know if I want to go here when [Competing Theater] is closer to my house.”

She left before I could respond, and I didn’t see her the opening night when I was working. I did not envy the workers at that other theater.

I visit my local cinema with three friends in 1975 when the film “Jaws” is first released in the UK. A few minutes after the four of us settle into our seats, a group of rowdy teenage girls arrive, one of whom keeps up an incessant, inane chatter in a loud voice from the moment she walks in.

She natters non-stop while other people are coming in and sitting down. She natters while the adverts were showing. She makes immature comments about the people and items being advertised.

Finally, the credits for the main feature start, but she is still prattling on in her loud voice. When the title of the film appears on screen, she says in a loud questioning, surprised type of voice:

Girl: “JAWS?”

Me: *Shouting* “Yes, like you’ve got!”

Everyone within earshot burst out laughing. After that, we never heard another peep from her.

All of our tickets are a low flat rate of $5 before noon, so there are no extra discounts for things like seniors, military, etc., until the prices go up later in the day. It’s 11:00 am, and I’m helping a customer with a Southern accent who is buying tickets to an 11:30 show.

Customer: “Three tickets to [Movie]. And two of those are military.”

Me: “I apologize, but there’s no military discount at this time of day. But you’re getting the early morning matinee pricing, so the tickets are actually already at the cheapest price they could possibly be.”

The customer immediately snaps into an ugly mood.

Customer: “Pfft! F****** northerners! We know how to respect our heroes down south! You’re what’s wrong with the country! D*** Yankees hate the troops! [Politician] will sort you out!”

He carried on for quite a while about this before walking away still grumbling. It took everything in my power not to mention to him the fact I’m an army veteran… and that I also would have the good manners not to complain about not getting additional discounts when tickets are already the cheapest they could possibly be.