My SO lives at a marina, on his boat. At the marina, though a separate entity, there is a restaurant with a bar (upstairs). Downstairs (in the same building) is the laundromat for the marina, showers, bathrooms, and a meeting/convention room. The manageress for the restaurant is infamous for her Bad Service and nasty attitude in general, and everyone who lives in the marina seems to have their own Bad Service story about her.
Anyway, one week ago, he and I returned from spending the day at my parents' place out in the country to find a class reunion in full swing downstairs in the meeting/convention room (and spreading out onto the docks and sidewalks). I was shocked to find out that it was MINE. (20 years, class of '89!)
We talked about it and he said he'd pay for tickets if I wanted to go. So we went. They had my nametag at the desk with my yearbook photo on it, made out a "guest of" nametag for my boyfriend, gave us wristbands and everything. A fine time was had by all.
The Bad Service arises a few days later when the manageress from upstairs had the nerve to complain (to the manager of the marina) that we had "crashed" the reunion.
Way to be a bitch there. How can I "crash" my own reunion when we paid for tickets (and they had my nametag ready!)?
The eager assumption that we're guilty (rather than, IDK, assuming that we'd paid for entry like everyone else there) really chaps my hide.