I Know All In Español

, , , , , | Right | March 13, 2019

(I work for a famous theme park. As I’m bilingual, I wear a name tag that displays certain languages I can speak: Spanish and English. My family decides to come to see me for a week and I take the entire week off, of course, to be with them. On the first day of their vacation, we go to one of the parks. I’m walking down the streets talking to my family when, all of a sudden, a random man approaches me and begins jabbering away at me in rapid Spanish.)

Guest: “Do you know where the fast-pass kiosk is? I’ve been looking everywhere! Nobody can help me!”

Me: “Yes, it’s behind the walls.” *points toward it* “If you need any further assistance, a cast member can help you or will find someone who can.”

Guest: “Thank you.” *walks off*

Mom: “So, how did they know that you can speak Spanish and work here?”

Me: “I… I have no idea.”

(I double-checked to make sure I wasn’t wearing my name tag by mistake, despite being in regular clothes, and I have no Hispanic features. The funny part is, every time I went to the parks at my own leisure, I’d get stopped regularly by people asking for help. And not just at my park, but at others, as well. Not that I minded; my coworker friends and I decided that we all just have a certain look on our off time, and people just pick up on it and assume we know what we’re doing.)

Unfiltered Story #139773

, , , | Unfiltered | February 14, 2019

(I work at a popular theme park at one of our 3D attractions. We can fit a little over 400 people per show, but this requires essentially stuffing the lobby prior to everyone entering the theater. I’m the one directing people where to go at this time.)

Me: *into a microphone, standing in the middle of the crowd* Ladies and gentlemen, please continue moving all the way forward, up to the yellow line! If there’s any available space in front of you, please move in into it!

Random man right behind me: *VERY loudly, enough for the mic to pick it up* THERE AIN’T NO DAMN SPACE!

Me: *dumbfounded* I’m sorry…?

(I understand it’s crowded and hot, but seriously, do you want me to magically expand the lobby? Because I can’t do that.)

Spinning You A Yarn Of An Explanation

, , , , | Right | January 5, 2019

(I work in a clothing store that has one wool sweater for sale. As we’re a tourist stop, we tell people how to wash the sweater when they purchase it. Normally people just nod, thank me, or ask a question like if they should have it dry cleaned. I recognize a girl from earlier in the day when she bought a sweater, but she is back with a friend who is buying one so they can use her discount card.)

Me: “This is 100% wool, so you’re going to want to hand wash it and lay it flat to dry. If you put it in the dryer it’ll become a sweater for a cat.”

Girl: “What’s wool made of?”

Me: *thinking I misheard her* “I’m sorry?”

Girl: “Do you know what wool is made of?”

Me: “It’s sheep’s hair.”

Girl: *looks confused*

Me: “You shear a sheep — basically giving it a haircut — and then that’s spun into yarn and tada! A sweater.”

(The girl looked at me like she was horrified that she’d asked such a stupid question. It was obvious she knew the answer but had just forgotten at the moment when she asked. The rest of the transaction was done in silence.)

See You Later, Alligator

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 21, 2018

(I’m walking down International Drive when I pass a gator exhibit with a man holding a small alligator, offering it to tourists.)

Man: “Would you like to pet an alligator?”

Me: “Yes!”

(I’ve held an alligator before; however, this time I hesitate as I reach out towards it. When I do, the man thrusts the alligator towards my face, in a way that is sudden and intrusive yet does not disturb the alligator.)

Man: “Yah!”

Me: “Ack!”

(I’m very easy to startle, and I cry out and jump back. The man laughs.)

Man: “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

Me: “You saw weakness and you zeroed in on it. I should have seen it coming.”

(I then proceeded to pet the alligator to my heart’s content.)

He Cowers When You Have A Legitimate Argument

, , , , , , | Working | December 10, 2018

(Several friends and I are barhopping. We have just left the first bar and are heading to our next stop. We show the bouncer our IDs. Everyone is let into the bar, except my one friend who is 22. She and I both have Maryland driver’s licenses, but mine was from a few years earlier than hers, so it had the old design, while hers has the new one. After a minute inside the bar, I turn around and realize one of my friends is still standing outside with the bouncer. I go outside to discover that the bouncer has turned away my friend with the newer Maryland driver’s license.)

Me: “What’s the problem?”

Friend: “The bouncer said my ID was fake and won’t let me in.”

Me: “Are you serious?!”

(I grab her ID myself to make sure the holograms are correct and that nothing is wrong.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, but the holograms on her ID are legit.”

Bouncer: “Yeah, well, so were the ones on the Maryland ID I confiscated last week. I asked her some follow-up questions, and she couldn’t answer them correctly.”

Me: “What did he ask you?”

Friend: “He asked me what the capital of Maryland was. It’s Annapolis, right?”

(My friend got a Maryland’s driver’s license while staying with her sister for a few weeks when she turned 21. She’s a Florida native. I, however, have lived in Maryland for my entire life, minus the past few months since I moved to Florida.)

Me: “Yes, Annapolis is the capital of Maryland. Sir, she answered the question correctly; I’ve lived in Maryland my whole life and can attest that she is correct, but I’d be happy to Google it if you’re still unsure.”

Bouncer: “Doesn’t matter. Took her too long to answer the question. This is my job. Her ID isn’t legit, anyway. She’s not getting in.”

Me: “Let me direct your attention to the wristbands we’re both wearing from the last bar we just came from.”

Bouncer: “That’s great. She’s still not getting in.”

Me: “All right, let’s just clear this up once and for all; can you scan her ID?”

Bouncer: “I have no way of scanning it.”

Me: “Then, technically, you have no way of proving that her license isn’t legit.”

Bouncer: “That isn’t my problem.”

Me: “You know what, we aren’t doing anything wrong. Let me make this easy: I’ll call the police and ask that they send out an officer who can scan her ID to let you know if it’s legitimate. Once that’s proved, you can let her in.”

(I am trying to be helpful, not threatening. But at this point, the bouncer gets a little too close to me and seems angry at my suggestion.)

Me: “Look. I get that your job is to turn away people with fake IDs. If we were a bunch of kids who got caught with a fake, we’d run away. We’d be too scared of our parents finding out or the police getting involved. I offered to call the police myself to fix this situation. Why would I do that if her ID was fake?”

Bouncer: “I don’t know. It isn’t my job to know. It’s my job to check IDs.”

Me: “I can’t help but notice your accent. You’re clearly from the UK, so I can understand your confusion over the laws and capitals of states over here in the US. But you are wrong in this situation. My friend is 22 years old. Her Maryland license is legitimate. The capital of Maryland is Annapolis. You have not been open to reason in any shape or form, so I’m going to go inside, grab all six of my friends who are waiting for us to order drinks, inform the hostess inside that you’re turning away legitimate IDs, and take my friends elsewhere. But I’m going to make d*** sure that the employees inside know that their bouncer is turning away legal-aged customers, who were eager to spend a bunch of money in this establishment.”

(I then turned and walked back into the bar. I marched up to the hostess station and informed her of the situation. She was understandably frazzled, so I told her to let her manager know or to inform her supervisor. As I was talking to the hostess, my friend came up behind me and informed me that she’d gotten in. She claimed that she snuck past the bouncer. But I have a feeling he turned his back long enough to let her go by, without apologizing, to try to get me to stop getting him in trouble. I later contacted the management company that owned that bar. I included an entire transcript of the conversation, the fact that my friends ended up buying around forty shots and ten drinks during our time there — money that would have been spent elsewhere — the conversation I had with the hostess, and information to contact me with any questions. I also included how the bouncer admitted to having confiscated an ID. I looked it up the next day; it is ILLEGAL for a civilian to confiscate an ID, whether it is legit or fake. I made sure to inform the person I spoke to about that. Only a police officer can confiscate any form of ID in the US. Someone reached out to me within two hours of my email with follow-up questions and promises to investigate. I don’t know what happened to that bouncer, but I hope that serious actions were taken.)

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