(My parents have gone to the cinema. There are two screens at this cinema: [Screen #1], which is larger and has a balcony, and [Screen #2], which is smaller and doesn’t have a balcony. Balcony seats cost a bit extra. My parents are waiting to buy their tickets and a couple of women are in front of them.)

Woman #1: “Hi. We’d like two tickets for [Film in Screen #2].

Cashier: “No problem. That will be [price].”

Woman #2: “Oh, we want balcony seats.”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry, but that screen doesn’t have a balcony.”

Woman #2: “But we want balcony seats! We’re happy to pay!”

Cashier: “I’m afraid [Screen #2] doesn’t have a balcony. Only [Screen #1] has a balcony, and it is showing [Film in Screen #1]. [Film in Screen #2] is only showing in [Screen #2], and there is no balcony.”

Woman #1: “Well, can’t you switch them over?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry?”

Woman #1: “Can’t you put [Film in Screen #2] into [Screen #1], and then we can have balcony seats?”

Cashier: “Um, no, I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

Woman #2: “This is disgraceful! Why won’t you let us go into the balcony?”

(This goes on for a couple of minutes before the women finally buy their tickets for [Film in Screen #2] and angrily enter to take their seats. My parents advance to the counter.)

Mum: “Two tickets for [Film in Screen #2], please. And we’ll take the non-balcony seats.”

Cashier: *laughs* “No problem!”

(My husband and I are standing in line to get snacks at a movie theater, talking while we wait. I respond to something he says in a way that’s snarky and fake-insulting, as that’s how I express my affection most of the time, and he usually volleys it right back.)

Husband: “You are ruining date night.”

Me: *gasps* “This is a date?!”

Husband: “Yes, this is date night and you’re ruining it.”

Me: “Do… do you like me?”

Husband: “…”

Me: “Do you like me like me?!”

Husband: “I’m not sure where you find divorce papers, but you’re making me really tempted to find out.”

Me: “Now who’s ruining date night?”

(I work in a movie theater. My colleague is a short woman who is in her last trimester of her first pregnancy. Due to this combination, she cannot reach the row of ice cream tubs further away from her without crushing her baby. She is serving an elderly woman who asks for ice cream that she cannot reach.)

Colleague: “I’m sorry, I cannot reach that one because I’m pregnant.” *to me* “[My Name], could you finish this lady’s ice cream for me?”

Me: “No problem.”

(I take over and my colleague takes the payment. Not long after, the customer comes to me.)

Customer: “I just wanted to say that your colleague did not need to tell me she was pregnant. That’s disgusting!”

(I was too stunned to answer, but she seemed content with having said her piece and walked off.)

(The movie “Bridget Jones’ Baby” has just come out. It’s an adult movie full of crude jokes and innuendos, swearing, and several sex scenes; it’s rated R. Anyone under 17 must be accompanied by an adult into an R-rated movie, and children under six aren’t allowed at all. I am an usher, and I’m coming back from a theater check when my manager informs me that a couple is taking their child into the Bridget Jones movie. I walk in after them. The movie has yet to start, as they are very early, and the lights aren’t even down yet. The couple is standing there, getting settled, with their infant in a stroller. I approach the mother that’s standing with the child.)

Me: “I’m sorry, miss. You can’t have your child in here. This is an R-rated movie, and children under six are not allowed.”

Husband: *jokingly… I think* “Well, then he’s six now, isn’t he?”

Wife: “But he’s just a baby.”

Me: “Yes, but he’s under six, and we can’t allow children under six in an R-rated movie.”

Wife: “But we should be allowed to dictate what he can watch, anyway; we’re his parents.”

Me: “Yes, but this movie is still inappropriate for young children, and our policy does not allow children under six from being in this showing.”

Husband: “He’s just a baby. He won’t even understand what’s going on.”

Me: “Maybe so, sir. But he is still under six, and still not allowed in an R-rated movie like this.”

Wife: “But we already bought our tickets and food and everything. Besides, he’s just going to nap through it. He’s just a baby.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. But he’s still under six. If you’d like, our manager can switch your tickets for another movie so you can take your child. But you can’t watch this movie with him.”

Husband: “But we couldn’t get a babysitter for our date, so we just took him. He’s just a baby.”

Me: “My apologies. If you would just come with me out of the theater, we can get you a ticket for another movie, instead, since we cannot have children under six in this theater.”

(Eventually, I got them to leave the theater, still muttering. They immediately went to my manager and b**** about me, about our rules, and about the fact they apparently couldn’t bear to reschedule their movie date to take care of their baby. They were given comp tickets for a later date, since they REALLY didn’t want to change movies, and left, still wondering why they couldn’t have an infant in a rated-R movie.)

(We are having a midnight showing of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” As you would expect, we get quite a lot of lovely characters turning up. Another movie has just ended and people are leaving. One woman runs up to me screaming.)

Woman: “WHY ARE THERE SO MANY [SLURS] HERE?!”

Me: “Sorry, madam, but could you please control your language? There is a showing of Rocky Horror, and some fans are quite committed.”

Woman: “It’s disgusting. You should be ashamed, letting so many homos into such a respectable establishment. I watched Passion of the Christ here just last week! REPENT!”

(She then ran out of the theater, screaming Bible verses to confused onlookers.)