When The Mother And The Manager Deserve Each Other

I work in an indoor amusement park at a little hut on the way into our mini-golf course. We sell merchandise from the hut with the park’s name on it.

The park has a three-write-up system for employees; get written up three times and you’re fired. I’m a good employee who always works hard, but my boss hates me for reasons I’ve never known, and at this point in the summer, he’s already written me up twice.

A middle-aged woman runs in, absolutely frantic.

Guest: *Yelling* “You need to give me a shirt!”

Me: “Uh, well, we have T-shirts on that wall there, and sweatshirts—”

Guest: “No, I’m not buying a shirt. Your park owes me a shirt, and you’re going to give it to me!”

Me: “What?”

Guest: “The idiots in the food court didn’t put the lid on my son’s soda tight enough, and now he’s spilled it all over his shirt, so you need to give me a new one!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that happened, but I can’t give away merchandise. Tell you what. Let me radio for a manager, and we’ll see if there’s anything he can do.”

I pick up the walkie-talkie and call for [Boss]. No answer. I call for him again. Nothing. Meanwhile, the guest is becoming more and more irate, tapping her foot, and making huffing noises.

Guest: “My son is just standing there in the food court, dripping wet!”

Me: *Into my walkie-talkie* “[Boss], please come to mini-golf! Or if anyone sees [Boss], can you please tell him to come to mini-golf?

Again, silence.

Guest: “This is ridiculous! I’m taking this!”

She grabs a shirt from the wall and runs out of the booth.

Boss: *On the walkie-talkie* “This is [Boss]; go ahead.”

I quickly explain to [Boss] on the walkie-talkie what has happened, and I tell him that if he can meet me at the food court, I’ll point out the customer to him. [Boss] and I arrive at the food court at the same time and he’s carrying another shirt. I point the guest out and immediately see why the problem started: loose lid or not, this woman bought a thirty-two-ounce soda for a kid who could not be older than four. Of course, it spilled!

Boss: “Ma’am, I heard what happened, and I’m sorry, but I can’t let you keep that shirt. However, we happen to have another shirt leftover from a corporate event, and if you want, I can give you that shirt, instead.”

He holds out the T-shirt he’s carrying, and at first, this sounds like a pretty good solution, until he unfurls it and we see that it’s an adult extra-large. This makes her FURIOUS.

Guest: “HOW’S HE SUPPOSED TO WEAR THAT?!”

Boss: “Well, I know it’ll look a little silly, but if he tucks it into his shorts—”

Guest: “HE DOESN’T WEAR HIS SHIRTS TUCKED IN!”

With this, she pulls the park shirt off of her son, throws it at me, and replaces it with the extra-large.

Boy: “Mommy, it’s too big.”

Guest: “I know it’s too big! I know, but that’s what this man wants you to wear!” *Turns to [Boss]* “And you know what? If we were to go running in the park, and if he were to trip and, I don’t know, smack his little head—”

I swear to you, when she said, “smack his little head,” she actually smacked her son on the forehead!

Guest: “—then we would have to sue the park for giving him this shirt!”

She turns back to her son.

Guest: “Come on, let’s go! Let’s go running! You want to go climb on the jungle gym? Let’s go climb on the jungle gym!”

She runs off with [Son], leaving behind their pizza, one ginormous spilled soda, and an entire food court staring at [Boss] and me. [Boss] turns to me, seething.

Boss: “You’re getting written up for this.”

Me: “What? What did I do?”

Boss: “You gave away merchandise and that’s not allowed.”

Me: “But I didn’t! I didn’t give anything away; she came in and took the shirt!”

Boss: “DON’T ARGUE WITH ME!”

Me: “So, that’s my third write-up. Are you telling me I’m fired?”

Again, the ENTIRE FOOD COURT is watching this conversation. [Boss] thinks for a moment.

Boss: “You’re not fired. But you’re hanging by a thread.”

Me: “Why? This wasn’t my fault—”

Boss: “I said DON’T ARGUE.”

He stormed off. I returned to the mini-golf booth and spent the day cursing him out in my mind. I never saw the guest or her son again, and I doubt they sued the park.

I quit a month later when I left for college, and I never saw [Boss] again. I heard from former coworkers that [Boss] ended up being fired for having an affair with a sixteen-year-old employee.