I went on a winter holiday in Austria. It was my second time snowboarding after finishing my lessons the year before. On the afternoon of our third day there, I was exhausted and I tried to push myself up from a sitting position but fell right away. I felt a small snapping sensation in my right ring finger, but I didn’t think much about it.

Thirty minutes and two ski lifts later, I realized that my finger was swollen. I decided to go back to our hotel. I asked my cousin — a med student — about what I needed to use to reduce the pain. She tried to feel the bone but couldn’t because the finger was very thick already.

Cousin: “Can you bend your finger?”

Me: “Only like a third of the way.”

Cousin: “How painful is it out of ten?”

Me: “I think six.”

Cousin: “I think you just sprained it. Just use the ointment to reduce bruising, wrap it with elastic sport tape to keep it still, and you should be okay in a few days.”

Me: “You don’t think it’s broken?”

Cousin: “You would know it if it was broken. You would feel more pain.”

Me: “I don’t have to go to the emergency clinic here, then?”

Cousin: “Nah. It’s too expensive here. You can wait until we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Me: “Okay.”

A few days after we were back, almost a week after the accident, I had to go to Indonesia. By then, the swelling was gone, but the finger was still crooked and couldn’t bend. I decided to go to a clinic there.

From the x-ray picture, they saw that I had a hairline fracture close to the second joint of my right ring finger. Unfortunately, it had already been too long, so the bone already started healing itself, in the wrong position. Now the finger is forever crooked.

When I told my family about it, [Cousin] received a lot of teasing, and the story is retold every winter holiday. She did not choose orthopedics as her specialty.

I’m working at a ski center at the “family lift”, which is meant for families with little kids; the slope is small compared to the rest so that everyone in the family can ride together. There is a fence between this lift and the “sledding slope,” which is for people who just want to come sledding. That slope is free, meaning you don’t need a ski pass to enter. Every lift has a snowmobile, and I have mine parked next to the lift so I can have somewhere to sit if I want to.

I am helping a young girl onto the lift, with my back to the snowmobile. I hear a noise behind me and turn to see two kids, around five or six, trying to start the snowmobile!

Me: “Hey! What on earth do you think you’re doing?!”

Kid #1: “We want to drive the snowmobile!”

Kid #2: “Yeah! We’re going to drive it up the slope!”

Me: “No, you can’t do that. You are not old enough, and you can’t drive this unless you work here.”

Kid #2: “But Mum said we could!”

Me: “I don’t care what your mum says; you are not allowed on it. I need you to lea—”

Mother: “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO MY BABIES?!”

Me: “Ma’am, are these your children?”

Mother: “Yes! Now tell me why you are talking to them!”

Me: “They were on the snowmobile and trying to start it to take it for a joyride.”

Mother: “Sooooo? I told them they could!”

Me: “Ma’am, they can’t do that. They’re not old enough, they don’t work here, and they haven’t been trained on how to operate it!”

Mother: “Oh, stop being so rude! Just teach them how to operate it now.”

Me: “I can’t. They’re not old enough, and unless you work here, you are not allowed not drive it.”

Kid #1: “MUUUUUUUUUUUUUM! I WANNA DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”

Kid #2: “Tell him to staaaaaaaaaaart it!”

Mother: “Now look at what you´ve done! You made them sad! I demand you start the snowmobile and let them ride!”

A former coworker and regular visitor comes up to the lift and gives me a look.

Former Coworker: “You need help, son?”

Me: “Oh, hi, [Former Coworker]. Tell [Boss] I said hello.”

We have all been told that if we are in a situation where we need the owner and we don’t want to say it out loud, for one reason or another, to tell someone who works or has worked there to tell the owner I said hello and the boss will come down if possible.

My former coworker understands, and he goes up with the lift and down the slope toward the office.

While I talk to my former coworker, the mother climbs the fence and joins her kids at the snowmobile to get it started. And then I notice that none of them is in ski gear — no helmets, ski boots, skis, or anything — and the woman has left two sleds behind the fence.

Me: *Somehow still polite* “Ma’am, why aren’t any of you in ski gear?”

Mother: “Because we decided to just go sledding.”

Me: “Umm, you can’t be on this side of the gate if you aren’t planning to ski.”

Mother: “Yes, we can; we are paying customers! We ate inside the restaurant!”

Me: “It doesn’t matter; you can’t be here unless you are going to ski.”

Mother: “SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE IDIOT! WE ARE PAYING CUSTOMERS AND THAT MEANS WE HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE HERE AND THE RIGHT TO RIDE THE SNOWMOBILE!”

I lose it and decide to use my army voice.

Me: *Commandingly* “Okay, that’s it. Get off the snowmobile now!”

They all look shocked.

Mother: “H-how dare you talk to me like that?! You need to show your elders some res—”

Me: *Cutting her off* “I have tried to be polite and to tell you kindly to leave the snowmobile, and yet you have refused! Do you realize that your kids could die, get injured, or kill or injure someone if they drove this thing?! You and your kids need to leave, as you clearly have no right nor deserve the right to be here!”

She tries to play the victim card as a family of six come to the lift.

Mother: “HELP! HELP! This boy is harassing me and my babies!”

Luckily for me, the family doesn’t believe her when I explain the situation and I assure them that I don’t need help.

Now, the mother decides to play the infamous “I know the owner” card.

Mother: *With a smug face* “You know I know the owner, so unless you want to lose your job, I suggest you start this snowmobile!”

Me: “OOOOOOH you know the owner?”

Mother: “Yes.”

The owner is walking toward us as the regular sent him. I wave at him.

Me: “Well, here is your chance to explain to him why I should get fired.”

I can see the mother start to worry a little, but she quickly shakes it off.

Owner: “So, what is the problem here, then?”

Mother: *Flying into a rant* “Your employee has been so rude toward me and my kids and refused to let my babies ride the snowmobile even though I know we are allowed to do so as paying customers!”

Owner: “No, you are not allowed to because it is dangerous and wasteful. Also, I can see that none of you are dressed to be on this side of the fence and thus I can assume you have not paid to be here.”

Mother: “Well, what about him?!” *Points at me* “He is not dressed for skiing, either!”

Owner: “That is because he works here and he should not be dressed for skiing.”

Slowly realizing she is fighting a losing battle, the mother decides to go for the harassment claim.

Mother: “He harassed me and my babies and I demand he is fired for his behaviour!”

The owner is a chill guy and has a great sense of humour. He does not take BS from anyone and he sees that he has an amazing chance to strike down this entitled woman.

Owner: “Well, then, should we see what audio the cameras have recorded?”

Mother: “N-no that is not necessary, but I demand he be fired for his behav—”

Owner: *Cutting her off* “And I guess I should also tell my daughter that her boyfriend is a horrible person for harassing a mother and her children, right? Oh, how devastated she will be!”

Now, the mother realized that her battle was lost and started shrieking about how she would leave a horrible Facebook review, how the police would hear about this, how she would never come back because we are so horrible to customers, etc.

After she left, the owner started laughing and said he would save the security footage because he wanted to keep this as an “entitlement takedown trophy.”

I’m at a ski resort in line for a lift. In front of me is an instructor with two small children. She seems to be playing a guessing game with them to pass the time on the ride up.

Kid #1: “Is it a bear?”

Instructor: “Nope.”

Kid #2: “Is it a beaver?”

Instructor: “No.”

Kid #1: “Is it a fox?”

Instructor: “Nope.”

Kid #2: “Is it a wolf?”

Instructor: “No. You’re gonna be at this all day if you just guess like this. I’ll give you a hint. If you can figure out what it eats, you’ll probably get it right away.”

Kid #1: “Does it eat berries?”

Instructor: “No.”

Kid #2: “Does it eat leaves?”

Instructor: “Nope.”

Kid #1: “Does it eat apples?”

Instructor: “No. It’s not a plant; it’s kind of like a protein.”

Kid #1: “Does it eat oatmeal?”

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear how this played out.

I work as a food cashier for a ski resort. You walk into a room where all the food is sold, you put everything you want onto a tray, and then to leave the room you have to go past the cashiers and pay for everything you have. We close at 4:30 every day and the doors to the room are shut.

Some people come in late and stay in the room after 4:30, so we can’t shut the doors and trap them in. Various customers keep asking me if they can go in and I keep saying no because we are closed. Then, they get pissed at me because there are still people in there.

After I’ve dealt with this for a solid ten minutes, the last customer comes to the register.

All hot food closes at four. You can buy drinks and snacks until 4:30 but nothing like pizza or fries, etc. This guy walks up to me with some cheesy fries.

Customer: “I’m not paying for these.”

Me: “Well, they were already made, so you can leave them with me if you don’t want to pay, or you can pay.”

Customer: “No, these look like crap; I’m not paying for them.”

I look at them and there isn’t enough cheese on them, and I can potentially see what the problem is.

Customer: “Yeah, I go in and ask for the fries and the lady is all put off and annoyed and says the oven to melt the cheese doesn’t work, so she microwaves them and crap.”

I realize what’s going on. He came in after she was closed, she’d already cleaned and turned off the oven, and the fries were already deep-fried, but they didn’t have cheese. He demanded she still make them for him, so she had to use the microwave. Then, he had the audacity to be annoyed by it.

Me: “Well, I’m sorry about that, but you still have to pay.”

Customer: “I want to talk to your manager!”

My manager is like ten feet away.

Me: “[Manager], this guy doesn’t want to pay for his fries!”

She came over and just let him take them. She was right to do that — better not to create more trouble — but I wasn’t going to give in so easy.

I work at a ski and snowboard hill. While it is my first season there, I went through around two days of six-hour training sessions and am certified in my department, which is ski and snowboard rentals. A woman and her child, around five years old, come up to me.

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [Resort]. Are you renting skis or a snowboard?”

Customer: *Already looking quite annoyed* “I’m just renting for my son. He needs boots and skis.”

Me: “Okay, have you filled out the form?”

Customer: *Blank stare*

Me: “The form the front desk gave you with his sizes, skill level, weight, and height?”

The customer proceeds to slap the form down. I grab the size boots the child wears, and I also start filling in the ski setting information. It’s a long process, as I have to follow a chart to ensure the safety of the child and set the skis correctly.

Customer: “HEY. These boots do not fit my child. I gave you his size and you gave me the wrong boot! Are you f****** dense?”

I look up to see that the child is still wearing his winter boots, tied and all, giving me the impression he hasn’t tried the ski boots on.

Me: “Well, our ski boots don’t say the exact size for a child his age. It says a letter that corresponds with the size. I can show you the chart I use?”

Customer: “No, this is ridiculous. I’m sure you’ve never skied a day in your d*** life! I’m a professional skier!”

The customer then slammed the boots across the table and grabbed her kid, who looked jarred, and dragged him out the door. She didn’t come back to my desk, and I didn’t see them come back in, thankfully. A coworker told me she demanded a refund on everything, which our manager declined as I was just doing my job.