I am working on a theme park’s Ferris wheel. As one of the cabins approaches, I see a woman letting both of her kids urinate on the floor.

Me: “Ma’am, you should have let them use the restrooms before the ride!” 

Mother: “Eh… it shouldn’t have gone on for so long.”

It was a five-minute ride.

She shrugged her shoulders and walked off. She was escorted from the park with protests, but the damage was already done and I had to close the ride.

When I was in college, I worked in food service at a famous theme park that revolved around a particular mouse mascot. Back then, there was an annual event called “Night Of Joy”. Officially, it was an event where the park was closed early to the public, and Christian schools from all over came to the park for a mixture of fun and Christian music. 

In reality, it was just a bunch of horny teenagers running around banging in the darkest corners they could find in the happiest place on earth.

A coworker came up to me and just sighed.

Me: “That bad?”

Coworker: “It’s gotten to the point where [a certain dark and slow ride] had to be closed. The teens figured out it’s an eight-minute intimate, unsupervised ride.”

Me: “Well… I found a condom!”

Coworker: “Oh, my God! Gross! Have you called Custodial to come and remove it?”

Me: “I tried, but since they’re so occupied, they told me to wait. So, now, I have to babysit a condom under my table for the next twenty-five minutes while the organizers keep coming up to me commenting on how nice the park is now that the ‘worldly’ heathens aren’t around to ruin it.”

Coworker: “I’ll pray for both of us.”

I worked in a hotel that was at the budget end of the market. It was within easy travelling distance of a popular theme park, and we sold packages that included tickets to the park. A lot of these were through agents or third-party websites, pre-paid to the agent.

A guest on one such package came to reception one morning with a minor but legitimate complaint about her room, looking like she was geared up for a fight. I apologised and told her what I’d do to put it right. This seemed to take the wind out of her sails a bit, so she paused, and then she seemed to think of something else to complain about.

Guest: “We’re not happy about the bus to [Theme Park]! The website said it ran from outside the hotel, and we thought it was included.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the bus isn’t affiliated with us in any way. It does run from the stop opposite the hotel, but it’s just a regular bus service. You booked and paid through [Agent Website]; if you feel their website is misleading, you do need to raise it with them.”

Having failed to get the response she apparently wanted, she started to walk away. Then, she suddenly turned and shouted:

Guest: “And nobody told me it was Easter!”

I must have looked confused as she followed it with:

Guest: “I’ve probably paid more!”

Luckily, she stormed off before I had to explain to her again that we’d had no part in her booking process, that she’d selected her own chosen dates online through an agent, and that she’d booked a room including her school-aged children… who would have been on Easter break at the time.

I work for an amusement park that has a large green replica of the Eiffel Tower. I work at the stands at the base of the tower, right outside the shops.

Guest: “Do you have one of them paper things that shows you where things are?”

Me: “Do you mean a map?”

Guest: “Yeah, one of them map things!”

Me: “I don’t, but the store behind me does.”

He goes in, comes out with the map, and asks:

Guest: “Do you know where that Eiffel Tower thingy is?”

I don’t say anything and just point behind him.

I explain this encounter to a coworker later, who happens to be German. 

Coworker: “Oh, forgetting the name of something I can understand. In Germany, we call it ‘Sprachenkrise’ which I guess in English means ‘language crisis’. Once, I couldn’t remember the word ‘cemetery’, so I made do with ‘sadness park’.”

I am working at a cotton candy stand. My manager comes by and notices I look a little flustered.

Manager: “Everything okay?”

Me: “Yeah, but I had a lady complain that the cotton candy wasn’t fluffy enough and she was going to get me fired.”

Manager: “Short woman, red hair, huge glasses?”

Me: “Uh… yeah? Did she complain to you about me?” 

Manager: “Not yet, but she will. She’s already found me twice today to say that the popcorn vendor needs to be fired because the kernels were ‘too poppy’ and that the merry-go-round operator needs to be fired because it was spinning — and I quote — ‘too clockwise’.”