It’s Wingardium Levio-saah!

, , , , , , | Hopeless | May 14, 2018

(I’m 31, going to the Harry Potter amusement park in Florida. My brother and I buy the special wands where you can do “magic” in certain parts of the park. We notice in the newer Diagon Alley you can do it pretty easily, but in the older Hogsmeade, it’s a lot harder, maybe because of dirty windows or bad placement of the sensors. I stumble on a girl who is maybe ten, and her dad. The girl is almost in tears because she can’t get the special wand she got to work.)

Me: *running up to the girl* “If it’s okay with you and your daddy, can I teach you some things I learned? I know it’s hard. I’ve been here all day, but I’ve learned a few tricks.”

Girl’s Dad: “It’s okay.”

Girl: “Okay.”

Me: “Okay. Stand right here. See what it’s telling you on that little medallion? Copy the motions.”

(She tries a couple times and it’s still not working; she’s getting frustrated.)

Me: “No, no, it’s okay. You just need to think really hard, and it’s all in the wrists!”

(I say this really loud and start looking around at other people who may have wands.)

Me: “Keep at it! Focus!”

(At this point, an army of wand-wielding people has gathered right behind us, out of her line of vision, trying to get the sensor to work. It finally works. I give them the thumbs up, then give them a signal to disperse so the girl won’t realize it might not have been her. They all walk away, practically doing casual, “Oh, look at that detail in the village,” looks. The girl runs up to her dad.)

Girl: “I did it! I did it! Did you see it?!”

Me: “See? You are a witch! I knew it! Great job!”

Dad: *to me* “You are awesome!”

Me: “Oh, I didn’t do anything. She did! By the way? What house?”

Girl: “Gryffindor!”

Me: “Slytherin. Guess we aren’t all bad, huh? See you, sweetie!”

(I will never let a kid lose their imagination, even if I have to build an army on the quick to keep it running.)

Above And Beyond The Hotelier’s Call

, , , , , | Hopeless | April 10, 2018

When I was 14, my family and I took a vacation to a popular amusement park. The hotel we were staying at was not an official hotel affiliated with the park, but it was in the area.

On our third day of our vacation, I woke up very sick. We thought I either caught a stomach virus or had food poisoning. No one else in my family was sick, and we had day passes to one of the amusement parks that I wasn’t too thrilled about going to, so they used that pass that day.

Anyway, being 14, my parents decided it was okay for me to remain in the hotel room and sleep. My parents are the worrying type, so they told the front desk that I was sick and that they would really appreciate it if someone could just check on me once during the day. The lady at the front desk said no problem, took my mom’s pager number — this was before cellphones were really affordable — and asked if there was anything else I needed. My mom said some clean sheets would be good, and thanked her. She came back upstairs to let me know that someone would be coming by with sheets, and if I needed anything to call the front desk.

About two hours after my family left, there was a knock on the door. The woman had a name badge and a cart, so I opened the door. She had a huge basket on the cart with a balloon on it that said, “Get well soon!” The front desk had sent up a basket with numerous stuffed animals, crackers, ginger ale, and soup. I was so happy I started to cry. What was set to be the worst day of my vacation turned into one of the best days.

When my family came back, they were shocked. My brother — who was 21 — was actually jealous that he didn’t get anything. My mom went down to the front desk to thank them and to pay for the items. The front desk told her no, the basket was on the hotel, free of charge.

I don’t know if the hotel still does that for sick kids, but it certainly made my vacation absolutely awesome. Thank you, hotel!

What The Truck? Part 2

, , , , | Working | March 28, 2018

(The morning my friend and I are set to leave our hotel, the valet informs me that my car won’t start. I call my dad, and we figure it’s the fuel pump. The valet helps me find the only car repair place in town that’s open on Sundays, and I arrange for towing. About an hour later, I get a phone call from someone with a very heavy accent who doesn’t speak English very well. He’s the tow truck driver, and he can’t find the giant theme park resort hotel we’re staying in. We eventually communicate well enough that he figures out what hotel he needs. As I used valet parking, I do not know exactly where my car is. I give him the number for the hotel people so he can get the details from them. Not long after, I get a call from the valet telling me that the tow truck is a giant flatbed that’s too big to fit into the parking garage. I call the 1-800 number and arrange for a smaller truck to retrieve my car. The call center lady gives me the direct phone number to the local towing company they contract with, in case I should need it. Several hours later, I get a call from the valet asking when the second tow truck is going to arrive. I’m shocked my car hasn’t been picked up yet, and I call the local number to find out what’s going on.)

Towing Dispatcher: “Yeah?”

Me: “Yes, my car was supposed to be towed from [Hotel] to [Garage], but the first truck they sent was too big. They said they’d send a smaller truck, but it’s been hours and no one’s showed up.”

Towing Dispatcher: *brings up my info in their system* “[Hotel]? That call was canceled. We couldn’t reach the car.”

Me: “Yeah, but I scheduled a second truck to come get it. My car’s in a parking garage.”

Towing Dispatcher: “Fine. I’ll send someone out.” *hangs up*

(Another hour passed. I got a call from the valet saying the towing company sent ANOTHER giant flatbed to get my car. At this point I broke down; I have Aspergers and anxiety issues, and the tow truck troubles, on top of everything else, were too much. My friend saw the state I was in, put on her manager face, and marched off to handle things herself. She returned and told me they finally got my car loaded, thanks to the valet and the tow truck driver, who pushed my little car out of the parking garage themselves. The tow truck driver was complaining loudly about how his company should have sent a smaller truck.)

What The Truck

They’re A Few Nuggets Short Of A Bucket

, , , , , , | Right | March 18, 2018

(It is peak season and during a lunch rush. During peak season, our restaurant has menus and signs all over, and we downsize our menu to help guests order more quickly. A woman and her child approach my register.)

Me: “Welcome, folks. What can I get you guys today?”

Customer: “We have been waiting over 20 minutes to order. This is awful!”

Me: “Sorry for your wait, but if can tell me what you would like, I’ll be happy to help!”

Customer: “I would like chicken nuggets.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we don’t sell chicken nuggets here.”

Customer: “Excuse me? That’s not what the menu says.”

(The customer holds up a menu from another restaurant.)

Me: “That’s not our menu.”

Customer: “Well, do you sell chicken nuggets here?”

Me: “No, but you can go to the place next door, and they can help you.”

(Customers behind her are giving the “come on” look.)

Customer: “I’m not getting out of line; I waited forever to order and my child won’t eat anything but chicken nuggets.” *the child looks about ten* “Can’t you just throw a piece of raw chicken in the fryer?”

Me: “Excuse me? No, I can’t.”

Customer: “You are no f****** help at all; you must hate children! I’m going to report you have make sure you are fired!”

Me: “All right. Just to let you know, my name is [My Name]; have a wonderful day.”

A Poultry Knowledge Of Food

, , , , , | Right | February 16, 2018

Caller: “I need one large cheese pizza, please!”

Caller’s Friend: “No, no! Get half pepperoni!”

Caller: “NO! My son is vegan, and he would want a whole separate pizza, then!”

Caller’s Daughter: “Mom, he does eat meat! He eats ham!”

Caller: “No, ham is not a meat; it’s a poultry!”

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