Every year, my graduate program brings in a crop of new potential students for an “interview weekend.” Knowing that these students are visiting other schools as well, we try to make sure that they not only learn about the program but also have a good time.

One year, we book a banquet hall for a nice dinner on the last night of the interview weekend. It’s a fancy catered meal with current students, potential students, and professors. This particular banquet hall happens to be attached to a major league baseball stadium, though it’s not currently baseball season. From the windows of the hall, we can see the empty field covered in snow while we eat dinner.

[Professor] is the youngest professor in the department, and though he’s a nice guy, he’s constantly trying to show the students that he’s the “cool” professor. After dinner ends, he stands up and taps on his glass for everyone’s attention.

Professor: “I hear there’s been some interest in going down onto the field to run the bases at [Stadium].”

Students: “Yaaaay!”

Professor: “Well, I asked if we could, and they said we can’t.”

Students: “Awww.”

Professor: “But WHO WANTS TO DO IT ANYWAY?!”

He stood up. Immediately, about fifty students stood up, as well, and followed him out into the hall. Admittedly, I was one of them. Hey, if a professor is leading the charge, he’d be the one to get in trouble, right?

He led us on a march through hallways, down stairs, and through doors. At some point, I think we crossed a sky bridge from the banquet hall into the stadium itself, which I had assumed would be locked in some way, but it wasn’t.

During our march, a few of us got cold feet — a passing custodian warned us that we’d get arrested — so we positioned ourselves where we could see the field and just watched to see what would happen.

Apparently, [Professor] and the mob of students were able to make their way right to the double doors that led directly onto the field. A friend of mine says that, in retrospect, he thinks [Professor]’s plan was to get to those doors, show they couldn’t be opened, and lead the disappointed but excited grad students back to the banquet hall.

Instead, the double doors opened. [Professor] turned around, shocked, only to be mown down by a mob of gleeful students that he had unleashed on the empty stadium. From my vantage on the sky bridge, I saw students running the bases, throwing snowballs, and making snow angels in the outfield. Some kind of loud alarm instantly started blaring, and security removed everyone from the field. Our entire department was then kicked out of the banquet hall and told we were banned for life.

I never found out what happened to [Professor]. But I did hear that our wonderful administrators, as soon as they heard what happened, sent flowers and apologies to the staff at the banquet hall. When the following year’s interview weekend rolled around, we were somehow allowed back!

I work concessions.

Customer: “Hi, can I get a Titan?”

Our Titan burger is $12. It’s three patties, nacho cheese, sliced cheese, chili, Fritos, lettuce, tomato, pickle, onion, jalapeños, and finally, hot fries, all on a burger. It’s massive.

Me: “Oh, yeah, for sure. Can I get a name for the order?”

Customer: “Um, no. Why do you want my name? There’s no reason to need it… creep.”

Me: “Oh, no, I’m in the middle of making burgers and it’ll be a fifteen-minute wait before they’re ready.”

Customer: “It doesn’t take that long for a f****** burger.”

Me: “There are five orders in front of you. So your name?”

Customer: “No. I’m not giving you my name.”

Me: “Um, okay. Well, how do I get your burger to you?”

Customer: “Young lady! Do you know who my husband is?!”

Me: “No, I don’t. I’m sorry?”

Customer: “My husband is an umpire here. You will show me respect!”

Me: “That’s not how this works. You’re yelling at me for no reason. Yes, your husband may be an umpire, but that does not give you the right to yell at me.”

Customer: “For this disgusting behavior of yours, I want everything free now!”

Me: “The best I can do for you is a half-off discount, making your total $6 instead of $12, since umpires and their families get half price.”

Customer: “You know what, b****?!  F*** you. I’m taking my business elsewhere!”

I work at a minor league baseball stadium. We have a picnic terrace used for gatherings, and we offer a buffet, as well. We don’t allow outside food or drinks, but customers sometimes sneak in small stuff from home.

Customer: *Holding a watermelon* “Can you cut this up for me?”

Coworker: *Visibly confused* “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” 

Customer: “I already have a knife. Can you cut up my watermelon?”

She is gesturing to her husband with a twelve-inch kitchen knife wrapped in cloth.

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m not allowed to.”

Customer: “Why not?”

She is getting annoyed and frustrated at being told “no” once.

Customer’s Husband: “Hey, we can just cut it at the table.”

He tries leading her away.

Me: “Did that really just happen?”

Coworker: “How the h*** did she sneak in a watermelon?”

Me: “How the h*** did they sneak in a kitchen knife?!”

We did let the nearest officer know. The knife was taken without much hassle. The woman claimed she didn’t know she couldn’t bring a knife, and the watermelon was taken but returned after the game.

Related:
They’re Not Cut From The Same Watermelon

I work for a major sports team at their stadium. A common request from diehard fans is to have their ashes scattered on the playing field after they pass. The team’s policy is to deny such requests.

One day, a small plane flies over the stadium and a container is seen falling from the plane onto the roof and bouncing off. The plane is from a company that contracts with families to scatter cremains at about 1,500 feet in the air, usually over the water or up in the mountains. In this case, the drop mechanism malfunctioned, and rather than scattering the cremains into the air, the whole container dropped off the plane.

Since everybody is very jumpy about potential terrorism, someone calls 911 and the fire department calls for a complete hazmat response: suspicious white powder dropped from a low-flying plane.

The stadium is completely evacuated and the streets around the stadium are blocked off for several hours, all because of some ashes!

I’m at my local roller derby game, and I decide that a beverage is just right for the occasion.

A local brewery is supplying the beers, and the bar is run by skaters from the league.

I buy two beers, and the total comes to something like $18. I hand the lady a $20 and three dollars in change. She looks at me weirdly and says, “It’s only $18.”

I reply, “It’s so you can give me a $5 note instead of coins.”  

“Oh! That’s clever. Did you work it out when you were queueing up?”

I just let it slide, thank the lovely lady, and leave with my cans.