I bartend at a luxury theater.
Customer: “I want my free martini.”
Me: “Uh, we don’t offer free alcohol here.”
Customer: “Well then, what the h*** does this say?”
He shows me his ticket.
Me: “That says matinee. That’s the type of ticket you purchased.”
Customer: “…oh.”
Me: “Do… you still want the martini?”
Customer: “H*** no! Martinis are gross! I only wanted one if it was free!”
I work in a concessions stand/bar for a theater that mostly has community theater performances.
An old man came over, and we ended up chatting about things while I was bagging up some candy and a beer for him.
Old Customer: “You in school?”
Me: “College, yeah.”
Old Customer: “What for?”
Me: “Theater.”
This man’s demeanor changed instantly.
Old Customer: “Bah! You’re never going to get a job in theater! You’re going to need to find a rich man to marry.”
Naively, I think he’s just making some kind of ‘boomer joke’, so I laugh it off and counter it with one of my own:
Me: “Well, technically, I already have a job in a theater.”
Old Customer: “Pretty girls like you just need a rich man to look after them.”
Me: “What’s wrong with me getting a job in theater? You’re watching a show in a theater tonight, right? You wouldn’t get to see a show if ‘nobody could get a job in theater’.”
Old Customer: “Yeah, but there are too many ugly babies in this country! You’re one of the pretty ones! You will make pretty babies! If you do theater, you’ll do all that running around and wearing costumes, and it’ll ruin your baby-makin’ parts!”
Suddenly, I’m livid.
Me: “Woooow. I’m not in the play tonight, but not looking like I want to punch you in the face right this instant will be the performance of the evening.”
Old Customer: “See?! Theater is already making you violent and ugly! Get out while you can!”
He leaves with his candy and beer, and I’m left there worried about guys like that being allowed to vote…
I sell live theater tickets. Names in the story have been changed.
Me: “Thank you for calling [Theater Call Center]. My name is [My Name]. May I have your name, please?”
Caller: “Yeah, I hope you can help me. I need to buy tickets for [Show Name] on the 22nd.”
Me: “The 22nd of which month?”
Caller: “The 22nd.”
Me: “Of January or February?”
Caller: “January.”
Me: “Okay, January is sold out. The only week I have tickets for sale is going to be the end of February.”
Caller: “What about the beginning of February?”
Me: “I do not have tickets at the beginning of February.”
Caller: “Well, just get me four tickets for any date in January, then. I just need four.”
Me: “Again, the show is sold out in January.”
Caller: “Then give me your house seats! I’m fine with those.”
House seats are internal-use seats.
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I do not have access to house seats.”
Caller: “Listen, do you know… gosh, what’s her name? She lives in my building. The lady who owns your company.”
Me: “I don’t understand the question.”
We are a non-profit, so no one owns us.
Caller: “The woman who owns you. She has tickets, right? Call her and tell her I need four tickets.”
Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Caller: “You work there, don’t you!? Your boss. The lady who owns your company! Melanie!”
Me: “Melanie is on the board, but I do not know her or have a way to contact her.”
Caller: “Well, when does she work? Is she here? Can’t you ask her to get me four tickets?”
Me: “I cannot divulge information regarding a board member or employee.”
Caller: “She’s not an employee! She owns you! You work there, don’t you? Can’t you just figure it out? Her schedule? When she comes in? She has to come in, right? And you work there!”
Me: “Again, I do not know Melanie, and I cannot divulge information on our employees or board members.”
Caller: *Screams in the phone and then silence.* “Fine! Just get me four tickets on January 22nd.”
Me: “We are sold out in January. The only days I have tickets are the last week of February.”
Caller: “Who the f*** is buying all the tickets? Tell me! Is it real people or is it corporations!? Huh? Who is it!?”
Me: “Ma’am, this show has been on sale for four months…”
Caller: “Oh, go f*** yourself! I heard about the cutbacks you guys are doing! I hope you get fired, you f****** c***!” *Click.*
My mom and I are arguing about who wrote the musical West Side Story. Both of us hate to be wrong and are digging in hard.
Mom: “West Side Story is my favorite musical of all time! I know it’s written by Leonard Bernstein!”
Me: “I’ve worked on two productions of it! It was Stephen Sondheim!”
Mom: “Bernstein!”
Me: “Sondheim!”
Mom: “Bernstein!”
Me: “Sondheim!”
My PhD sister decided to flex her doctoral research skills and looked it up while we were arguing.
Sister: “Both.”
Mom & Me: “What?”
Sister: “Bernstein wrote the music and Sondheim did the lyrics. You’re both right.”
Mom & Me: *Awkward crickets.*
Sister: “And if you want to be technical, Arthur Laurents wrote the actual script.”
Bernstein/Sondheim became the family in-joke instead of the “El Dorado” “Both” meme for years after that.
I used to work for an event ticket reseller. Our marketing emails came from “Jenny” because evidently people respond more positively to such emails from women. “Jenny” was actually a dude named Rajesh with a talent for super bubbly “check out these upcoming events!” emails.
I logged in one morning to find that my queue (Fraud) had a hundred tickets open. I usually only got about thirty overnight. Tier-one support had two hundred, they usually had about fifty overnight. Something was up.
It was email after email from one woman, begging “Jenny” not to steal her husband. She was UNHINGED! She sent cutesy couple pics from when they were dating, wedding pics, pics of their three kids, family portraits… PLEADING with “Jenny” to stop tempting her husband, stop trying to wreck their “happy home”. None of us had ever seen anything like it.
Rajesh wrote an exceedingly kind and gentle email explaining who we were and that he was “Jenny” and why, told her “Your husband either bought tickets from us or subscribed to event alerts.” He sent her a selfie!
A few days later, we got a super apologetic email from the husband, explaining that she had gone through his phone and found “Jenny” in his contacts and basically lost her mind. It was not the first time she had flipped over seeing a woman’s name in his contacts, but it was the last he was willing to tolerate. He had purchased Hamilton tickets for an anniversary surprise and was no longer interested in celebrating.
We helped him sell them. It was at the peak of the show’s popularity, so they were snapped up in an instant for a lot more than he had paid.
