It’s my first day on the job at the “most magical place on Earth”.
Me: “Ma’am, our line is now closed to get ready for the parade to come through. We’ll reopen once the parade passes.”
Customer: “You’re an inhuman monster, and it should be illegal for you to be around children!”
I work at one of those inflatable obstacle courses on water. I am guarding the entrance. On the beach, I see a small family going to their car with our life jackets. My boss runs to the parking lot.
Boss: “Where are you going with those life jackets?”
Family: “Oh, we thought they came with the hour on the island!”
All for $15. $15 each, I mean. And there were about ten of them.
I work in a Pennsylvanian Dutch amusement park. A Russian woman comes up with her toddler, babbling away in baby talk.
Apparently, this child is talking to me, because the mother gets very upset at me, yelling and cussing me out because I can’t understand her two-year-old child speaking Russian baby-talk. Not only do I not speak Russian, but even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to understand him, just like I can’t understand other two-year-olds I have to work with. Usually, I just have them point at what they want or their parents will help, but not this lady.
Mother: *Cussing me out and yelling in Russian.*
When she finishes she seems to expect a response:
Me: “Uh, I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t speak Russian.”
She repeats most of it in English, still yelling, then grabs one of the things I am still holding out to offer the kid and storms off.
Back in high school, I got a summer job at an amusement park. If you were active-duty military, you and your dependents got free access to the park once a year.
A lady came in with a group of kids and other adults and handed me a FAKE active military ID. The image and information looked legitimate according to my reference sheet, but she had seriously printed it out and badly duct-taped it to a white plastic card. No one with her had a dependent ID, either.
Me: “Ma’am, I can’t accept this ID. I could lose my job for letting in a group of over ten people for free.”
She argued with me. I pointed out that her fake ID was actually illegal, but her attitude clearly told me she didn’t care.
Lady: “If you won’t give me free tickets, I want to talk to your manager, supervisor, or whoever!”
Me: *Gladly.* “Okay!”
A manager, who was in their twenties, came, but the woman yelled at them, too, and demanded a higher supervisor. The supervisor, an older, no-nonsense lady, came out.
Supervisor: “Ma’am, I’ll call security to keep you from leaving and gladly wait here with you for the cops to come.”
She finally left with her group and never came back.
I’m working in a theme park that features a world showcase of eleven countries, and each of those countries is staffed by actual citizens of those countries; it’s a cultural representation program. I’m from Canada and so am working in the Canadian Pavilion.
Me: “Hello, how are you?”
Guest: “Where are you from?”
Me: “Alberta, Canada.”
Guest: “But you’re now American?”
Me: “No, still Canadian. The Countries in the World Showcase are staffed by people from the actual country; this way we can represent and teach about our country.”
Guest: *Starting to get mad* “Then you took a job away from my son.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you guys Canadian and he wasn’t chosen to participate in the program?”
Guest: “No, we’re true Americans that live here in Florida and my son can’t get a job here! If you illegals weren’t taking jobs here, then he could get a job here!”
Me: “Sir, I’m sorry to hear about your son, but the point of the program is so the countries have true representation and not people faking knowing about Canada or the other countries.”
Guest: “This is America, so it should be Americans first!”
Me: “I’m sorry, I really don’t know what else to tell you. Your son can always try again at the hiring department.”
Guest: “Yeah, he should and then he can take your job.”
Me: “Sorry, sir, he can’t. He’s not Canadian and only Canadians can work in the pavilion.”
At that moment, my Canadian manager — we have three that walk around the showcase and check on the staff; one’s American, one’s Canadian, and one’s French — comes in and asks a coworker what’s going on and then comes over to me and the guest.
Manager: “Hello, sir, what seems to be the problem?”
The guest looks at the manager and sees his name tag says he’s from Ontario, Canada.
Guest: “F*** this.”
As he walks away, my manager looks at me for an explanation.
Me: “Perfect timing. You just proved to him that only Canadians can work in Canada.”
Related:
Blame Canada! Part 11
Blame Canada! Part 10
Blame Canada! Part 9
Blame Canada! Part 8
Blame Canada! Part 7
