A teenage girl approaches me as I am checking tickets for a theater screen.
Teenage Girl: “Excuse me. There’s someone in my seat, and they’re refusing to move.”
I get cover for my position, and I follow the girl into the theater, checking her ticket on the way. In her seat is an older woman with a group of children.
Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re in this customer’s seat.”
Customer: “She can move somewhere else. I need to sit here with my babies!”
She gestures to the four children next to her.
Me: “May I see your tickets, ma’am?”
Customer: “You may not! You saw my tickets on the way in, and that is enough violations of my privacy!”
Me: “I’m not trying to check your personal details, ma’am, just your seat number.”
Customer: “Not happening.”
Me: “Ma’am, either you show me your ticket or the movie is ‘not happening’. Pick one.”
The customer rolls her eyes, scoffs, and makes a long song and dance about slowly opening her bag, followed by slowly opening her purse. She glacially hands over a crumpled-up ticket.
Me: “Ma’am, you’re seated down at the front, in row A.”
Customer: “Those are terrible seats! My babies will get bad necks!” *Glares at the teenage girl* “Why does this b**** get to sit in the nice seats and my babies have to sit down in the front?”
Me: *Looking at both tickets, as well as the teenage girl’s receipt* “Because this customer purchased her ticket online about two weeks ago, and you purchased yours five minutes ago at Concessions. Now, please let this customer have the seat that she paid for, or I will have to ask you to leave.”
Customer: “I’m not moving!”
Without skipping a beat, I get on my radio.
Me: “Security to screen seven, please. We have a customer who needs escorting from the premises.”
Customer: “Wait, you were serious?!”
Me: “You thought I was joking?”
Customer: “Fine, fine! I’ll move!”
Me: “No, ma’am. You didn’t move when asked multiple times. That time has passed. You now need to leave the theater.”
Customer: “F*** you! I paid for my tickets, and I deserve to see this movie!”
Me: “And everyone else who paid also deserves to see the movie — without you causing a scene. Please leave.”
The customer stubbornly remains in her seat, and the security guard is unable to remove her; he can’t physically touch her unless she’s being violent. We have to wait for the police to come and forcibly remove her, by which time the movie is half an hour late.
The best part about the story comes at the end. The four kids next to her (mostly teenagers) have been silent and well-behaved during the whole interaction. Since it’s a PG-13 movie and it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, I ask them if they’d like to accompany their mother or stay and watch the movie.
Kids: “That’s not our mother! We don’t know that woman! We thought she was talking about someone else!”
