Seriously, Get A Room!

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 27, 2020

A few years ago, I lived in an apartment where I had to go outside to throw my trash away. On one occasion, I was on my phone so I wasn’t really paying attention. It was a hot day. I thought I heard some muffled noises but I thought it was just my imagination.

I threw my big heavy bag into the dumpster and then heard a voice cry out. It was coming from inside the dumpster, which was full.

I peeked in, thinking it might be a homeless guy or maybe a baby, but then I saw a wild-eyed teen girl and a teen guy staring at me. They were maybe fourteen or so, and they were naked. They tried to hide, giggling, but I’d already seen them. Mystified, I turned around and walked home, shaking my head.

It was a rough neighborhood, but not that rough, and I know teen hormones are rampant, but I’d never have sex in the dumpster with trash around me. Call me a prude.

I hope it was because they had nowhere else and not because they liked the smell of hot garbage, but still!

I saw them kissing and hugging the next day. They saw me, too, frowned, and then turned red and sauntered away.

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Theater Lovers, Avert Your Eyes!

, , , , , , , | Friendly | May 22, 2020

Some years ago, a friend and I had tickets to see The Scarlet Pimpernel on Broadway. We went with one of those bus tours and got to the theater early so we could take our seats and be comfortable.  

And then two things happened.

Incident one:

About ten minutes from the opening curtain, two gentlemen came to our aisle and began to argue with the women sitting next to us in the aisle. The women were in their seats and the men wanted them to get out. They debated the point — all of them leaning over us and getting tenser and more irritable as the debate went on — for several minutes until an usher was called over.

The usher looked at the men’s tickets and said, “You are correct. Those would be your seats… if you were coming to see The Scarlet Pimpernel. Unfortunately, your tickets are for The Lion King which is at the New Amsterdam theater.”

The men argued a few more seconds and then finally took off running. My friend and I and the ladies beside us couldn’t help but wonder out loud how you can see the name “Minskoff” and read “New Amsterdam” or read the name of the musical and mistake it for another.

We all settled back in. A loud buzz of voices started up behind us. Everyone in the theater looked back to the balconies where a large group of high school students was taking their seats. No problem. Schools bring kids to the theater all the time. They usually quiet down as soon as the play starts.

Not these kids.

The theater probably did themselves a disservice when they announced that “This performance has been selected to be taped for airing on PBS later this year. We ask the audience to please be on their best behavior.”

Almost immediately, the kids in the balcony started shouting random words and screaming at each other, and their teachers did nothing to stop them.

As the play began, it was almost impossible to hear the actors’ words or enjoy the music as the kids in the back continued to sing loudly — other songs, not the songs in the play — and shout out suggestions to the actors during quiet periods.

At one point in the performance, the characters gathered to quietly plan a coup and, even though we were sitting in the ninth row, we could not hear a word they said. Suddenly, at that point, the cast all stood up from their positions, went to the front of the stage, and said “SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The audience joined in and we all waited until the kids were silent before the play resumed.

I took a quick look back at the balcony: two ushers were up there speaking with the teachers. Before the act was over, the balcony had been cleared and the rest of the play took place without incident.

I am sure the kids were screaming in hopes of seeing the play on TV and hearing themselves ruining the experience for everyone else. I have to wonder what kind of pea-brained little snot thinks that’s an appropriate thing to do. More to the point, I wonder why the teachers didn’t think it was their responsibility to shut the class up.

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We Need More Juicy Details

, , , , , , | Right | May 20, 2020

About thirty minutes before we close for the night, a small group of teenage boys comes in. Thinking they’re going to be rowdy or disruptive, I brace myself.

Teenage Boy #1: “Hi. Do you have any fruit?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Teenage Boy #2: “Yeah, do you have any fruit? Like, oranges? Or apples? Or even some lemons?”

Me: “Uh, well, we have some frozen fruit for smoothies.”

Teenage Boy #3: “Do you have anything we could juice, though?”

Teenage Boy #2: *Holds up a box* “We just bought a juicer and we wanted to try it out.”

Me: *Totally confused now* “Sorry… we only have frozen fruit.”

Teenage Boy #1: “Aw, okay. Thanks, anyway!”

They leave and my manager walks over.

Manager: “What did they want?”

Me: “They wanted to know if we had any fruit. They just bought a juicer.”

Manager: “Why on earth would a bunch of teenage boys buy a juicer?”

Me: “Beats me!”

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The Cold Truth Is Yours Can’t Be

, , , , , | Right | May 18, 2020

At our restaurant in the amusement park where I work, there are glass-doored refrigerators that hold cold drinks for our guests to buy. I’m working as the cashier and two teenage boys run in with large plastic water bottles.

Boy: “Can I put these water bottles in the coolers for a bit while we go on rides?”

I blink a couple of times, processing what I just heard.

Me: “Umm… no, sorry. The coolers are for keeping our merchandise cold for our customers.”

Boy: “Don’t you have a marker or something? I can write ‘Not for Sale’ on them.”

Me: “I still can’t do that; customers accidentally buying your drinks isn’t the problem. We can’t hold personal drinks in them for safety reasons.”

Boy: “Come on! We just want our water to be cold.”

Me: “Well, I can give you ice for 25 cents.”

Boy: “Are you kidding me? I don’t have that much!”

And with that, they run out of the restaurant with their warm water. I walk back to see my coworkers.

Me: “Did that really just happen?”

Manager: “I think it just did. At least you handled it well!”

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Unfiltered Story #193793

, , | Unfiltered | May 15, 2020

(I’m When I Was In Junior High my grandparents opened an antique shop and I worked the cash register and cleaned and helped customers and one day this lady came in and I was in the shop alone when my nana was in the back)

Customer:well hello there little girl is your Mommy or daddy here?

Me:….Ma’am I Work Her..

Customer:Or sure.. Your such a good “helper” your a “big girl”… But listen kid I want to listen to an adult

Me:Ma’am I can help you if you need anything and I’m not a kid I’m  a Teenager

Customer:Listen I don’t care what you are you not responsible enough to even take care of yourself your just a little kid now I would like to speak with an adult

(And as I went to get my Nana I could hear her mumble “selfish little brat” After telling my nan what happened she came up to her and she talked to her and the lady acted like nothing even happened and after if leaving and looking around I was so upset for someone I didn’t even know be so mean and rude I am perfectly capable of working and helping people I loved to help)