Dancing Up The Alphabet

, , , , | Right | August 21, 2019

(The large racing complex where I work has been completely rented out for an event with several thousand attendees. There are a number of different activities for attendees, and I am the sole person passing out ride tickets for the small racetrack I am at. You cannot get on track without a ticket listing your alphabetical group, since there are a limited number of vehicles available for each run, and we have a relatively small number of total rides possible compared to the number of attendees. With a non-stop line forming as soon as we open, people quickly have long wait times between getting a ticket and running their race. Because of this, many attendees try to wheedle their way into an earlier group – but this trio of 20-something guys was my favorite!)

Customer #1: “So, what’s the deal here?”

Me: “Well, I give you guys tickets, and when you hear the letter on the back of your ticket over the PA, you’ll head down to our grid to race. Our next available race is Group W.”

Customer #1: “What group are you on right now?”

Me: “I just called Group E down. The wait is over an hour.”

Customer #1: “Whoa! Is there any way we can go earlier?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. I have a single ticket available for Group T, but if you want to run together, you’ll have to wait until W.”

Customer #2: *flashes a friendly smile* “What if I did a dance? Would that get us in earlier?”

Me: *trying to maintain my composure, but some of my laughter is creeping into my voice* “I’m sorry, sir. Much as I would love to let you in earlier for dancing, I don’t have any earlier open spots.”

Customer #3: “He really is a good dancer!”

Customer #1: *laughing* “We’ll take three tickets for W, thanks.”

(After nonstop customers, and a number of shocked and upset reactions to the wait time, these guys gave me a funny moment I desperately needed!)

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The Ticket To A Fun Afternoon

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 22, 2019

(My husband and I are visiting America for the first time and are in Saint Louis. While at the top of the Gateway Arch, we see that a baseball game is starting in the nearby Busch Stadium so we make an impromptu decision to go to the game. Just as we approach the ticket desk, a couple intercepts us.)

Couple: “Are you going to buy tickets for the game?”

Me: “Uh, yeah.”

Couple: “We’re season ticket holders and we upgraded our tickets for tonight’s game. They let us keep our old tickets, so you can have ours for free.”

Me: *trying to decide how this scam works* “Oh, I dunno.”

Couple: “We’ll be honest with you; they’re not great seats, but it saves you buying tickets.”

Me: *still unsure and wishing I was psychic so I could read my husband’s mind*

Couple: *laughs* “I know you probably think we’re scamming you. Put it this way: if the tickets are valid, you can watch the game and hopefully have a good time. If the tickets are fake, they just won’t let you in but you haven’t spent any money so no loss. We just heard your accent and wanted to do something nice while you’re visiting us.”

Me: “Okay, let’s give it a shot. Are you sure you don’t want anything for the tickets?”

Couple: “Absolutely not. Enjoy!”

(With that, the couple gave us the tickets and disappeared before we could get their details. The tickets were valid and, to us, the seats were fantastic. We had a great view of all the action and really enjoyed the game. It’s one of my favourite stories to tell from our trip and it really made our day.)

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Not A Fan Of Their Reaction

, , , , , | Friendly | July 9, 2019

(For many years, I am a boundary umpire for a local football — i.e. Australian Rules — league. As anyone who follows sport knows, fans like to make their opinions known to the umpires and referees. One of the more memorable exchanges happens as I am coming off the field after a close-fought game that ended with the home side losing.)

Fan: “I just want to say what a good job you did out there today…”

Me: “Thank you.”

Fan: “…because it’s obvious that the league told you to make sure that [Team] lost! And you did a d*** good job!”

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When Life Gives You Gay Lemons…

, , , , , | Right | June 21, 2019

(I work in a lemonade stand inside of a college football stadium, so, therefore, most of our customers are drunk college boys. We have two flavors: regular and sugar-free pink lemonade.)

Customer: “What kind of lemonade do you have?”

Me: “Well, we have regular and pink, which is sug—“

Customer: *cuts me off mid-sentence* “That’s gay! I’m not drinking pink lemonade. That’s gay!

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They’re Not Giving You High Fives

, , , , , | Learning | May 30, 2019

(I work for a high school whose soccer team is competing in a regional match. Earlier in the day, the athletic director came to me in a panic asking if I could take money at the entrance since there was no one else available. A few extra dollars never hurt, so I agree. I pull up to the field and start putting on the money belt.)

Athletic Director: “The way this works is that everyone, and I mean everyone, is $5.”

Me: “Including young children?”

Athletic Director: “Absolutely. They could have a baby that came out of the womb yesterday, $5. A guy in his 90s, $5. Students, whether they are ours or theirs, pay the same. The only exceptions are individuals on the pass list.”

Me: “Okay, so we are charging the same for anyone regardless of age, height, weight, race, sexual orientation, etc.”

Athletic Director: “Exactly.”

Me: “This is going to be interesting.”

(I station myself at the entrance to the park. The first car goes through with no issues. Car number two, however…)

Woman: “What is this?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “What are you doing here?”

Me: “Oh, I’m the gatekeeper.”

Woman: “We have to pay to see our own kids play?!”

Me: “Yep. $5.”

Woman: “I’m out of here!” *starts backing out* “No wonder people are parking over there!”

(She points at a lot for an entirely different venue some distance away. I don’t have an opportunity to protest as she’s pulled far enough away and another car has come into the line. I handle a few more cars before she walks back up, now with a dog on a leash.)

Me: “It’s still $5.”

Woman: “FOR WHAT?!” *points to dog* “HIM?!”

Me: “No, you.”

Woman: “UGH!”

(She walks back to her car. A few more come through with no issues. Then, she’s back holding out a bill.)

Woman: “I am going to report you! You could have told me that before I went over there!”

(So, what was the implication here? That she didn’t know she would have to pay because this was the first game of her child’s she had ever been to, despite it being the end of the season, or that after already footing the bill towards a five-figures-a-year private school tuition, $5 was stretching it just a little too far? Anyway, the AD’s response to me telling him this event? “Seriously?!” Still waiting on that report!)

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