Okay, so I don't work at the movie theater anymore, though there are times when I wish I still did. It's been several years since I quit the job ('cuz I'd gotten a second job that paid better and had health insurance), and having recently discovered CS, I can now vent a lot of these great stories.
No ID, No Ticket - Part One
BG: Our theater had a strict "1 ID per ticket" policy regarding R-rated movies. As in, if your teenage ass trying to buy tickets for you and your two teenage buddies, you'd better have three IDs to prove that you're old enough to see the movie. The only exceptions were for members of your immediate family.
Dramatis Personae:
J2K: Yours Truly
STI: Stupid Teenage Idiot
STI: Can I get three tickets to [some R-rated movie]?
J2K: Sure, I just need to see three picture IDs.
STI: (hands over his ID)
J2K: All right. Now I just need to see two more IDs for the other two tickets.
STI: What? I gave you my ID!
J2K: Yeah, but if you want to buy three tickets, I need to see the IDs for the other two people.
STI: Why?
J2K: Policy. One ID per ticket.
STI: My friends aren't here yet, man.
J2K: Well, I can sell you your ticket now, but I can't sell you the tickets for the other two.
STI: Can't you just let it slide, man?
J2K: No way.
STI: Come on, man! Be a friend!
J2K: (smiling) I'm not paid to be your friend. Three tickets? Three IDs.
In the end, he left without buying any tickets. I could get away with being a snarky b*st*rd at the theater thanks to the wall of glass separating me from the customers.
Calling Their Bluff
Another case of the "no ID, no ticket" scenario.
J2K: Can I help you?
SC: Yeah, can I get a ticket for [some R-rated movie]?
J2K: I just need to see your ID.
SC: Well... I don't have it.
J2K: Well... I can't sell you a ticket.
SC: But I'm over 18!
J2K: Okay. Can I see your ID as proof, then?
SC: It's in my car!
J2K: Well, you'd better go get it!
SC: But the line's really long!
J2K: Well, you'd better hurry, then!
At this point, the SC realized he wasn't going to get any help from me, and tried to jump over to the next window, cutting in front of the next customer there. I sidle over to the next window as well.
J2K: Don't even think about it.
Now the SC gets angry and points a finger at me.
SC: You'd better watch your back when you leave tonight, man!
Now, if I were to be threatened by someone, I might get worried. But I size this guy up. I'm about 6'1" to 6'2", anywhere from 260 to 275 pounds. This guy was a couple inches shorter than me, much skinnier, and clearly didn't do any working out. In other words, I was confident I could take him.
J2K: Tell you what? I'm on break in ten minutes, how 'bout I meet you right outside?
Aha, I have called his bluff. The SC gives me that "backing away sneer," the sort of expression that says "Yeah, whatever," while they back away from you. Then he just sort of sulks off.
My manager had overheard the whole exchange, and gives me a concerned look.
Manager: Do you want someone to walk you to your car tonight?
J2K: Nah, he's not going to try anything. And if he does, I'm carrying around a backpack with, like, twenty pounds of books in it. He tries anything, I'ma smack 'im in the head with it.
The SC didn't try anything, of course.
No ID, No Ticket - Part Two
TG: Teenage Girl, who came up to my line by herself, no accompaniment
TGD: Teenage Girl's Dad, comes into play later
J2K: Hi, can I help you?
TG: Three tickets for [some R-rated movie], please.
J2K: I'll just need to see three IDs for the tickets, please.
TG: (hands over her ID)
J2K: And the other two tickets?
TG: Oh, they're for my parents.
I am a skeptical b*st*rd by nature. As I noted, she was by herself. So I didn't believe her.
J2K: I'm sorry, but I can't sell you the tickets if they're not with you.
TG: (stares at me)
J2K: Sorry, theater policy.
She gives a 'tsk' and takes back her money and leaves. I go about my business. Some time later, maybe fifteen minutes or so, an older gentleman comes up to my window.
TGD: Three tickets to [some R-rated movie].
J2K: That'll be $[some price that was too high even seven years ago].
TGD: (pays me)
J2K: (gives him the tickets)
TGD: (brandishing tickets) Now, my daughter came to your window earlier, and you wouldn't sell her a ticket. Now, I've got a problem with that.
J2K: (remembering) Sir, she was by herself, I had to ask for three IDs.
TGD: She gave you her ID, and said they were for her parents, and you wouldn't sell her a ticket.
J2K: Sir, she was by herself, she could have been lying.
TGD: I've got a problem with that.
J2K: Well, if you'd like to make a complaint, the customer service desk is right inside.
He leaves, and I'm thinking, "I can't be the only person to know that Teenagers Are Damned Liars, can I?"
Skeevy Creep
(Whom I will call SKC for "SKeevy Creep")
Okay, this guy was just creepy. Pervert, and all sorts of things. My first encounter with him was when the Guy Ritchie movie "Snatch" came out.
SKC: (overly cheerful) Hi, I'd like one ticket for... "Snatch."
He put to much cheerful emphasis on that word.
J2K: That'll be $[some price that was too high even seven years ago]. ...Here you go, enjoy the show.
SKC: Thanks! I'll be sure to enjoy... "Snatch."
And I watch him go, thinking, "Okaaay, I need to go take a shower now." SKC was a frequent at our theater, too, came by at least once a week, and was just as skeevy every time. I found out he had a habit of taking a seat next to single women in the theaters, and trying to put his hand in their lap. And when they would slap his hand away and tell him to get lost, he'd just get up and move to another woman.
We were just BEGGING for another reason to get rid of this guy, to ban him forever.
Around this same time, the theater was doing fund-raising for the Jimmy Fund, to help children with cystic fibrosis. A $2 donation, and you'd get a little golden heart pin. We routinely would ask customers if they'd like to donate their change, and such. Well, SKC was being helped by a coworker, who asked out of reflex.
CW: Would you like to donate some of your change to help children with cystic fibrosis?
SKC: No, they're all dead anyway. (walks off)
J2K: (turning to CW) Did he just say what I think he just said?
CW: (appalled) Yeah!
I called one of the managers and relayed the whole thing, and asked, "Please tell me we're gonna ban this creep." Unfortunately, being a heartless b*st*rd on top of being a skeevy creep is not enough to ban someone.
However, we did eventually ban him. Not too long after the Jimmy Fund thing, the theater held a "family fun" night, where we had various food and drinks available (apart from the usual movie theater concessions) and some family film for show. And SKC showed up and was going around telling people we'd "put something" in the food, and just generally being his usual skeevy self, and we finally banned him from the theater.
No ID, No Ticket - Part Three
CW: Hi, welcome to [theater], can I help you?
SC: I want three tickets to [some R-rated movie]. (slides money through the slot)
CW: I'll need three IDs if you want to buy three tickets, sir.
SC: I don't have three IDs, I want three tickets.
CW: I can't sell you the tickets if you don't have the IDs, sir.
SC: I don't care. I want three tickets.
CW: I'm sorry, sir, but I can't help you if you don't--
SC: I don't care! I want three tickets!
CW: Sir, it's theater policy, I can't sell you three tickets without three IDs.
SC: I DON'T CARE! I WANT THREE TICKETS!
CW: ... (hands money back through slot) Have a nice day, sir. Next!
SC: HEY! I WANT MY THREE TICKETS!
At this point, I hand my CW the walkie-talkie, and he, without taking his eyes off Mr. Shouty, just says, "Security to the box office, please." And Mr. Shouty stomps off, all pissed.
Things Not To Say To A Strong, Independent Woman
This coworker of mine, whose name, alas, I cannot remember now, was just great. She has just helped this guy buy two tickets to whatever show, given him his change, and is going on with her business. Then suddenly the SC comes back and knocks on her window.
SC: Hey! You short-changed me!
CW: (in a "what are you, an idiot?" tone) No...
SC: Yes, you did! You owe me three dollars!
CW: (same tone) No...
SC: You short-changed me!
CW: No, I didn't. I gave you the correct change.
SC: Look, wench--
And as soon as he said that, she just straightens up, and gets this look that would strip paint off the wall. And the SC quickly realized he done said the WRONG thing, and runs off.
CW: (to me) I was gonna kick his ass.
J2K: I would've held him down for you.
I've got plenty more stories from the theater, but I can save those for another time.
No ID, No Ticket - Part One
BG: Our theater had a strict "1 ID per ticket" policy regarding R-rated movies. As in, if your teenage ass trying to buy tickets for you and your two teenage buddies, you'd better have three IDs to prove that you're old enough to see the movie. The only exceptions were for members of your immediate family.
Dramatis Personae:
J2K: Yours Truly
STI: Stupid Teenage Idiot
STI: Can I get three tickets to [some R-rated movie]?
J2K: Sure, I just need to see three picture IDs.
STI: (hands over his ID)
J2K: All right. Now I just need to see two more IDs for the other two tickets.
STI: What? I gave you my ID!
J2K: Yeah, but if you want to buy three tickets, I need to see the IDs for the other two people.
STI: Why?
J2K: Policy. One ID per ticket.
STI: My friends aren't here yet, man.
J2K: Well, I can sell you your ticket now, but I can't sell you the tickets for the other two.
STI: Can't you just let it slide, man?
J2K: No way.
STI: Come on, man! Be a friend!
J2K: (smiling) I'm not paid to be your friend. Three tickets? Three IDs.
In the end, he left without buying any tickets. I could get away with being a snarky b*st*rd at the theater thanks to the wall of glass separating me from the customers.
Calling Their Bluff
Another case of the "no ID, no ticket" scenario.
J2K: Can I help you?
SC: Yeah, can I get a ticket for [some R-rated movie]?
J2K: I just need to see your ID.
SC: Well... I don't have it.
J2K: Well... I can't sell you a ticket.
SC: But I'm over 18!
J2K: Okay. Can I see your ID as proof, then?
SC: It's in my car!
J2K: Well, you'd better go get it!
SC: But the line's really long!
J2K: Well, you'd better hurry, then!
At this point, the SC realized he wasn't going to get any help from me, and tried to jump over to the next window, cutting in front of the next customer there. I sidle over to the next window as well.
J2K: Don't even think about it.
Now the SC gets angry and points a finger at me.
SC: You'd better watch your back when you leave tonight, man!
Now, if I were to be threatened by someone, I might get worried. But I size this guy up. I'm about 6'1" to 6'2", anywhere from 260 to 275 pounds. This guy was a couple inches shorter than me, much skinnier, and clearly didn't do any working out. In other words, I was confident I could take him.
J2K: Tell you what? I'm on break in ten minutes, how 'bout I meet you right outside?
Aha, I have called his bluff. The SC gives me that "backing away sneer," the sort of expression that says "Yeah, whatever," while they back away from you. Then he just sort of sulks off.
My manager had overheard the whole exchange, and gives me a concerned look.
Manager: Do you want someone to walk you to your car tonight?
J2K: Nah, he's not going to try anything. And if he does, I'm carrying around a backpack with, like, twenty pounds of books in it. He tries anything, I'ma smack 'im in the head with it.
The SC didn't try anything, of course.
No ID, No Ticket - Part Two
TG: Teenage Girl, who came up to my line by herself, no accompaniment
TGD: Teenage Girl's Dad, comes into play later
J2K: Hi, can I help you?
TG: Three tickets for [some R-rated movie], please.
J2K: I'll just need to see three IDs for the tickets, please.
TG: (hands over her ID)
J2K: And the other two tickets?
TG: Oh, they're for my parents.
I am a skeptical b*st*rd by nature. As I noted, she was by herself. So I didn't believe her.
J2K: I'm sorry, but I can't sell you the tickets if they're not with you.
TG: (stares at me)
J2K: Sorry, theater policy.
She gives a 'tsk' and takes back her money and leaves. I go about my business. Some time later, maybe fifteen minutes or so, an older gentleman comes up to my window.
TGD: Three tickets to [some R-rated movie].
J2K: That'll be $[some price that was too high even seven years ago].
TGD: (pays me)
J2K: (gives him the tickets)
TGD: (brandishing tickets) Now, my daughter came to your window earlier, and you wouldn't sell her a ticket. Now, I've got a problem with that.
J2K: (remembering) Sir, she was by herself, I had to ask for three IDs.
TGD: She gave you her ID, and said they were for her parents, and you wouldn't sell her a ticket.
J2K: Sir, she was by herself, she could have been lying.
TGD: I've got a problem with that.
J2K: Well, if you'd like to make a complaint, the customer service desk is right inside.
He leaves, and I'm thinking, "I can't be the only person to know that Teenagers Are Damned Liars, can I?"
Skeevy Creep
(Whom I will call SKC for "SKeevy Creep")
Okay, this guy was just creepy. Pervert, and all sorts of things. My first encounter with him was when the Guy Ritchie movie "Snatch" came out.
SKC: (overly cheerful) Hi, I'd like one ticket for... "Snatch."
He put to much cheerful emphasis on that word.
J2K: That'll be $[some price that was too high even seven years ago]. ...Here you go, enjoy the show.
SKC: Thanks! I'll be sure to enjoy... "Snatch."
And I watch him go, thinking, "Okaaay, I need to go take a shower now." SKC was a frequent at our theater, too, came by at least once a week, and was just as skeevy every time. I found out he had a habit of taking a seat next to single women in the theaters, and trying to put his hand in their lap. And when they would slap his hand away and tell him to get lost, he'd just get up and move to another woman.
We were just BEGGING for another reason to get rid of this guy, to ban him forever.
Around this same time, the theater was doing fund-raising for the Jimmy Fund, to help children with cystic fibrosis. A $2 donation, and you'd get a little golden heart pin. We routinely would ask customers if they'd like to donate their change, and such. Well, SKC was being helped by a coworker, who asked out of reflex.
CW: Would you like to donate some of your change to help children with cystic fibrosis?
SKC: No, they're all dead anyway. (walks off)
J2K: (turning to CW) Did he just say what I think he just said?
CW: (appalled) Yeah!
I called one of the managers and relayed the whole thing, and asked, "Please tell me we're gonna ban this creep." Unfortunately, being a heartless b*st*rd on top of being a skeevy creep is not enough to ban someone.
However, we did eventually ban him. Not too long after the Jimmy Fund thing, the theater held a "family fun" night, where we had various food and drinks available (apart from the usual movie theater concessions) and some family film for show. And SKC showed up and was going around telling people we'd "put something" in the food, and just generally being his usual skeevy self, and we finally banned him from the theater.
No ID, No Ticket - Part Three
CW: Hi, welcome to [theater], can I help you?
SC: I want three tickets to [some R-rated movie]. (slides money through the slot)
CW: I'll need three IDs if you want to buy three tickets, sir.
SC: I don't have three IDs, I want three tickets.
CW: I can't sell you the tickets if you don't have the IDs, sir.
SC: I don't care. I want three tickets.
CW: I'm sorry, sir, but I can't help you if you don't--
SC: I don't care! I want three tickets!
CW: Sir, it's theater policy, I can't sell you three tickets without three IDs.
SC: I DON'T CARE! I WANT THREE TICKETS!
CW: ... (hands money back through slot) Have a nice day, sir. Next!
SC: HEY! I WANT MY THREE TICKETS!
At this point, I hand my CW the walkie-talkie, and he, without taking his eyes off Mr. Shouty, just says, "Security to the box office, please." And Mr. Shouty stomps off, all pissed.
Things Not To Say To A Strong, Independent Woman
This coworker of mine, whose name, alas, I cannot remember now, was just great. She has just helped this guy buy two tickets to whatever show, given him his change, and is going on with her business. Then suddenly the SC comes back and knocks on her window.
SC: Hey! You short-changed me!
CW: (in a "what are you, an idiot?" tone) No...
SC: Yes, you did! You owe me three dollars!
CW: (same tone) No...
SC: You short-changed me!
CW: No, I didn't. I gave you the correct change.
SC: Look, wench--
And as soon as he said that, she just straightens up, and gets this look that would strip paint off the wall. And the SC quickly realized he done said the WRONG thing, and runs off.
CW: (to me) I was gonna kick his ass.
J2K: I would've held him down for you.
I've got plenty more stories from the theater, but I can save those for another time.
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