I have a friend who, despite identifying as female, dresses entirely in men’s clothing and is often mistaken for a guy. She has a very feminine name, as well.

We are walking through the bag and pocket check at a theater. My friend empties her pockets, begins to drop some quarters, and walks off without noticing.

Security Guard: “He’s dropping quarters everywhere!”

The guard takes a closer look at my friend.

Security Guard: “She’s dropping quarters everywhere!”

The guard looks at her yet again, this time very confused.

Security Guard: “They’re dropping quarters everywhere!”

He looks at me, desperate. I decide to help the poor guy.

Me: “Hey, [Friend]!”

The guard has a sudden spark of recognition.

Security Guard: “OH! [Friend]! [Friend]!”

She finally notices what’s going on and turns around to find me laughing like a maniac and the security guard looking at the both of us with a very sheepish expression.

Friend: “What?”

Me: “You dropped your quarters.”

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.

(I work in a performance theatre selling tickets and handling customers. I get a call from a seemingly calm gentleman just as my supervisor goes on break. Our return policy- which is no refunds or exchanges- and seating policy are verbally stated with each over the phone or in person transaction, and are written in the cart of our online store. We save house trouble tickets just in case we need to move people around, but basically once a ticket is purchased it’s completely out of our hands and in the hands of the ushers.)
Customer: “I bought tickets to an event a few months away and my friend is going too and I wanted to change my seat to sit next to him.”
Me: “I do apologize, sir, but I’m afraid there isn’t a way for me to change the seating for that event since it isn’t general admission.” *stated in the policy* “However, the day of the event, an usher will be able to allow you two to move into free seats. We have house trouble seats we set aside just for instances like this.” *also stated in the policy*
Customer: “So you’re telling me that months away from this event, you can’t change the seating around at all? That’s ridiculous and I don’t believe it.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but your seat was assigned when you bought your ticket, but the ushers-”
Customer: *interrupting* “Is there a supervisor I can talk to?”
(Everyone above me is on break, so I’m technically supervisor until someone gets back.)
Me: “Yes, you’re speaking to her.”
Customer: “Well then I want to lodge a formal complaint! This is terrible customer service! I’ll have your job for this. I can’t believe that you can’t just move things around this early- the concert is months away!”
(He rants for a bit, getting more and more irate until he’s yelling so loudly I have to hold the phone away from my ear.)
Me: “If you’d like to lodge a formal complaint, you can do so on our website-”
Customer: “I want to talk to someone about this! I am allowed to sit next to my friend. Move the seats around!”
(By now he’s screaming and cursing, and I hang up. Technically, I shouldn’t have terminated the call without warning him first, but luckily my boss sided with me and told me next time to just transfer irate people to her voicemail so I don’t have to deal with that. I spent the rest of my work day wondering why, if it was so important to him, did the customer not just buy his ticket at the same time as his friend?)

(I’m an usher, working an event that is at intermission.)

Customer: “Where is the nearest liquor store?”

Me: “Um, I’m not sure. I’m not 21 yet, so I’ve never been.”

Customer: “But you have to know where it is.”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any idea.”

(The customer goes back into the venue. Five minutes later, he comes out again on the phone.)

Customer: “Here, it’s my wife on the phone. Tell her where the liquor store is, or she’ll yell at you!”

(I still have no idea where the liquor store is!)

(I am working in a box office for a theatre and am on the phone with a customer whose order is nearly complete.)

Me: “Okay, if you could just read out the sixteen-digit card number on the front of your card, please?”

Customer: “Would you like that number from left to right?”

Me: *pause* “Yes.”