I was at a soccer game. I decided to take a short walk around the concourse and treat myself to a souvenir Dippin’ Dots cup. The kiosk has all of four flavors available (cookies & cream, rainbow sherbet, cookie dough, and brownie batter), and none of them look alike.

Me: “One cookie dough, please.”

One lady took my order and handed the bowl to her coworker, saying cookie dough. While she took my payment, the coworker filled the bowl (the “menu” of sorts covers the glass, so it’s not possible to see what she’s doing from the front side of the cart). A minute later and she hands a bowl to me, full of cookies & cream (obvious by the Oreo pieces).

I hated to complain, but I said:

Me: “I asked for cookie dough.”

Worker: “Isn’t that cookie dough?”

Lady Who Took My Order: “Nah, cookie dough has the brown bits.”

I hand the bowl back, and she takes a fresh bowl and fills it. A minute later, and I’m looking at brownie batter (obvious by the brown, not white, dots and almost black bits of brownie).

Me: “That’s brownie batter, but it’s okay, I’ll take it.”

That was my second choice, and I didn’t want to ask her to redo my order again. She came around to my side of the kiosk.

Worker: “WHICH one?!”

I pointed to the photo. The light bulb went on, and a minute later, I was walking away with my cookie dough dots.

I was in a college marching band, and we did plenty of cheering at sports games.

One day, something very good for our team happened in a game — this was more than twenty-five years ago, so I don’t even remember what sport was being played — and one of our more enthusiastic band members turned around to face the crowd, which was already cheering wildly about the fantastic play. He caught them at the exact right moment, and his voice carried well. Our team was called the Tigers.

Band Member: “GIVE ME A T!”

Hundreds Of People: “T!”

Band Member: “GIVE ME AN I!”

Hundreds Of People: “I!”

Band Member: “GIVE ME AN R!”

Hundreds Of People: “…”

Band Member: “…”

Hundreds Of People: “…”

Band Member: “S***!”

He sat down, and then he stood up and shouted at the crowd one more time while they were chuckling.

Band Member: “I MEANT WELL!”

I am working guest services at a major league soccer game at an outdoor stadium during a hot day in the middle of the summer. A lady comes up to me, looks at the field, and starts the following conversation:

Customer: “So, they are playing soccer?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. How much longer in the game?”

Me: “About forty-five minutes.”

Customer: “Oh… So, when do they bring out the ice?”

Me: *Very confused.* “Ma’am, may I see your ticket?”

She hands it over to me.

Me: “Ma’am, you’re looking to go to the local indoor arena for the ice capades.”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “…That’s, not here. This is a soccer stadium.”

Customer: “Oh, I just assumed it would be here, what with the lovely weather and everything…”

I worked security for a bit, for a company that would hire basically anyone with a pulse and, ideally, an SIA (Security Industry Authority) licence.

It was a very simple job in the VIP suite of the football grounds. I did that shift a lot. The door was on the ground floor, and all the booths and stuff were just up a small flight of steps. All that was involved was checking that everyone who came in had a ticket with “VIP” in large red letters on the top.

During the actual match, it was even easier. If the fire alarm started beeping, we had to run to the booth indicated on the alarm with a radio to check whether it was a false alarm or not, so something like a birthday cake with candles didn’t result in the big alarm going off and the stadium being evacuated. Plus, we directed people to toilets or the bar or whatever as required.

I was paired up with a new guy.

Me: “Have you ever been in this building before?”

New Guy: “No.”

Me: “You should go and look round so you know where things are before the punters start arriving.”

New Guy: “Okay.”

And he stood there.

Me: “They’ll be arriving soon.”

New Guy: “Okay.”

He stood there.

Me: “Go upstairs and look round now.”

New Guy: “Okay.”

And still, he stood there.

Me: “Stop messing about and just go up there now!”

He walked to the top of the steps and then straight back down again.

Me: “Okay. Where are the toilets?”

New Guy: “I don’t know.”

It took about fifteen minutes before I could get him to go upstairs, walk to the end of the corridor, check the numbers on the booths, check where the bar and the toilets were, find the fire escape, and learn all the other basic crap he needed to know. He came back looking all happy.

New Guy: “I wouldn’t have thought of checking all that out!”

Punters started arriving. [New Guy] started checking tickets. He was just waving absolutely anyone in without even looking. I spotted a regular I knew and asked if I could just show [New Guy] the ticket layout; apparently, the “check for ‘VIP’ in large red letters” instruction wasn’t clear enough. [New Guy] looked enlightened.

I nipped upstairs because one of the bar staff asked me to come check something, and I left [New Guy] checking tickets.

[New Guy] decided that this was now an exclusive secret club. He started making people pass their tickets round the door, checking every word on them, and glaring at the people in suspicion before allowing them in.

These people included the owner of the club.

I stopped [New Guy] and took over.

The game started. I had to go up to the bar area again. I gave [New Guy] the one job of checking the fire alarm: he literally just had to stand there with a radio, and if that box made a noise (it was pretty quiet), he was to follow the instructions of the people in the fire control room who would call him on the radio.

When I came back down, the alarm was beeping. [New Guy] was staring at it. The radio was screaming at him. He looked concerned.

He was doing nothing.

I grabbed the radio and legged it to the booth concerned. There was a candle; I asked them to put it out, and they did. I headed back down. [New Guy] was still standing there.

New Guy: “I wondered if that was what you meant by ‘making a noise,’ but I wasn’t sure, so I was going to wait until you got back to check.”

At the end of the shift, I got pressured into giving him a lift home because he’d missed the last bus. He spent the entire trip trying to persuade me to move to India and become a Christian missionary. I am not a Christian, which I had already explained.

He also didn’t know where he lived.

My good friend uses a wheelchair. She and her partner have reserved seats at our MLS (Major League Soccer) team’s stadium.

Once, they showed up to their seats to find a couple sitting in them. The couple refused to leave. My friend and her partner went to security, who removed the couple.

Woman: “Why does the girl in the wheelchair get special attention?!”