So Scary He Lost Three Years

, , , , , , | | Right | June 25, 2019

(I’m working at a haunted house selling the tickets up front. The manager puts me in charge because he has to make a change run. A young woman who looks like she could be twenty or so and her child who looks like he might be five years old are next in line. We have a rule that no child under seven is allowed inside. Signs are put on the door entrance and on the ticket desk that say this. She puts her money on the table and asks for two tickets.)

Me: “Ma’am, we cannot allow children under the age of seven to enter the haunted house.”

Customer: “He’s fine; don’t worry about it.”

Me: “No, that’s the rule: nobody under seven.”

Customer: “FINE, HE’S SEVEN!”

(It’s already been a long day and I really don’t want to get into it, so I just give her the tickets after taking her money. She snatches the tickets and drags her son into the attraction. The walk in the haunted house usually takes about five minutes. After about two minutes, I hear a child scream and cry very loudly in the house. Shortly after, I see the same lady carrying her son out through the entrance, rushing towards me.)

Customer: “What the f*** is wrong with you people?! You made my f****** kid cry in there! I want my money back, and I’m going to sue this godd*** place for traumatizing a four-year-old!”

(Her ignorance has broken through my tolerance level.)

Me: “Lady, I told you nobody under seven years old! You even said he was seven! If anything, I can call CPS on you for dragging a four-year-old in there!”

Customer: “Stupid b****! How dare you talk to me like that?! Where is your manager? I bet your tone will change once I tell them you’re threatening me!”

Me: “My manager is not here. Right now, I’m in charge. I’m not going to argue on an issue that is clearly your fault. Get out, or I can get security to drag you out!”

(After a few minutes of calling me names and screeching about how she was going to bring her baby-daddy to “f*** me up,” our security guard finally came out of the office after watching the cameras and proceeded to escort her out.)

Unfiltered Story #155151

, , , | | Unfiltered | June 23, 2019

I work for a souvenir photography company taking boarding photos of people getting on boat tours. We have two boats leaving back-to-back, my co-worker is shooting the first boat while I control the flow of the line.

Me: Good afternoon! How many in your group today?
Guest: No.
Me:  How many in your group, sir?
Guest: No.
Me: You all don’t have to take one if you don’t want to, but I still need to count how many people are boarding the boat. It looks like there’s about six of you?
Guest: I just said no!
Me: [holds up clicker] Sir, I JUST said you don’t have to take one. I still need a number.
Guest: [grumbles] Six.
Me: Thank you. After they take their photo, your group can go ahead and board the boat. Enjoy your tour.
Guest: [to my co-worker] We don’t need one. I mean, our camera’s nicer than yours anyway! [laughs while my co-worker stares blankly at him]

A minute later, that group realizes they boarded the wrong tour and have to get off the boat. While boarding the next one, they try and cut past other guests who have been waiting to board but the deckhands tell them they cannot cut the line. I’m shooting this next boat and my co-worker is line-flowing me.

Co-worker: Hello! How many in your– [sees previous group] Oh. You guys can go ahead and board.
Guest: We already said we don’t–
Co-worker: Yeah I remember. You can go ahead.
Guest: [To me, as his group walks past] We don’t need to–
Deckhand from out of nowhere: Sir, they know.

My only satisfaction is that because they were last in line, their group had to split up and I saw him wiping off water from his camera when they got off the boat.

Childish Babino

, , , | | Friendly | May 7, 2019

(My wife and I, while vacationing in Italy, are at the Trevi Fountain among the crowd of tourists. At every tourist site, there are panhandlers and after giving to several beggars I have gotten tired of handing out money. An elderly woman approaches me with her hand out, speaking in Italian, of which I only know a few words. When she sees I am not getting money out she starts her “sales pitch” while giving me a pitiful look.)

Woman: “Bambino ca-a-a-sa.” *drawing out “casa” to sound extra pitiful*

(Shocked that such an elderly woman would have a baby at home, my eyes grow wide.)

Me: *half laughing* “BABINO?”

Woman: *still looking pitiful and holding out her hand with her fingers spread to indicate “five”* “Cinque bambini!”

(I’m even more shocked that such an elderly woman would have FIVE babies at home.)

Me: *laughing* “FIVE BABINI?!”

(She looks mad and leaves. About fifteen minutes later, I am going into a nearby gelato shop and the woman is exiting while eating a double-dip gelato cone. I look at her and hold out my hand with my fingers spread.)


(She gave me a look like she was going to slap me but turned and walked away.)

At War With History

, , , | | Right | May 1, 2019

(I work on a museum ship in the United States. While I am at the front desk:)

Woman: “So, what exactly did this ship… do?”

Me: *has a canned response for this* “Well, ma’am, that’s a great question. The ship entered service with the US Navy in 1943 and was deployed to fight in the Second World War—“

Woman: “Oh, right. This is one of the ships they used to transport the Jews.”

Me: “Err… what? Uh, no, ma’am, this ship was in the Pacific—”

Woman: “Right, fighting the Chinese.”

Me: “Uh, no, ma’am, China was on our side in World War II.”

(It went back and forth like this for several minutes before she asked where the bathrooms were and wandered off.)

Never Too Old To Fly High

, , , | Hopeless | April 28, 2019

(The main building in the Military Memorial Park has several modern exhibits, amongst them one about aviation. I’m on duty in that station in this day, manning the MIG-29 simulator. The day is slow, and I’m starting to get bored, when a sweet old couple walks in. The husband looks at the simulator, which consists of a real cockpit with the booby-hatch from a MIG-27 plane, and a control panel in front of a big screen, and cheers up.)

Old Gentleman: “Honey, look at this! This seems like just the real deal! And I suppose you, young miss, are the pilot? You will take us on a journey?”

Me: *smiling* “Almost, sir. I will assist you, but you will be the one piloting! I’m just a navigator for you. Would you like to take a seat? Or you, ma’am?”

Old Lady: “Can we both try it? Is it even possible for old farts like us to do this?”

Me: “But of course! Fun has no age limits!”

Old Gentleman: “And what happens if we fail? Will we crash and die?”

Me: “No, sir, I’d never let it! You see, I can operate the catapult here, so if I see that you are in danger, we just leave the plane… Would you like to try it?”

Old Lady: “I think I will die from happiness! This is fantastic! Let me try!”

(They both tried it, screaming in childish glee, admiring the game’s realistic view, and generally behaving like kids in a candy shop. They both failed the mission first, but as it was a slow day, I confirmed with the receptionist and let them play with the simulator as long as they wanted, helping them using the controls. After a while, both of them managed to safely land — not an easy feat for anyone! They were really nice and genuinely happy, really cheering me up. Even just dealing with them already made my day, but later they came back with sweets and a small pendant for me. They insisted I have them, and the old lady even gave me a hug!)

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