Then they hired a new teenager to work there. At first there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. She stared at me an awful lot, but I didn’t think it meant anything. I think about what I want to order and, when I get to the front of the line, I ask for a large popcorn and a small coke. Aaaand that’s where the trouble started.
Teenage Theater Employee: -gives me the death glare- You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, you know.
My brother: Yeah Fluffle, you’re two minutes late already!
Me: -knowing he’s joking- Well, if you hadn’t had to stop to put out that burning building-
My brother: But it was an orphanage! A puppy orphanage!
TTE: –scowls- Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you with that stupid hair cut?
Me: -disturbed by how angry she sounds- Um, what?
TTE: I am so not getting your shit for you. –turns to the other employee working the counter- you get her shit.
Other Employee, whom I will call Pillock: What’s wrong? Is your back hurting or something?
TTE: No, this is the girl I told you about! The one from school!
Pillock: No, that’s Fluffle. She doesn’t go to your school.
TTE: How the hell would you know?
Pillock: Because she was in my graduating year. –as an aside- Hi Fluffle! :D
Me: Hi Pillock. Can I get my usual?
Pillock: Sure. –goes off to get the popcorn and coke-
TTE: -to me- I don’t know how you know Pillock, but you’re seriously out of line bothering me at work. I don’t bother you at Subway.
Me: I don’t work at Subway! I don’t even know you! The only highschooler I hang out with is my brother, and that’s not even willingly.
My brother: Love you too, sis.
TTE: -now getting angry- -begins to shout- Your dumb haircut doesn’t fool me Brianna! You’re such a freaking stalker! How’d you even figure out where I work you little emo?!
(Note: my real life name doesn’t begin with a B. In fact, it contains none of the letters used in spelling Brianna. Also, tie dye shirt plus jeans =/= emo.)
Me: -hands Pillock exact change, grabs the stuff and turns to walk away, because arguing is clearly just going to incite this chick’s rage- Um, uh, we gotta go. See you, Pillock.
At this point, the teenage theater employee grabbed my drink and poured it on me. And I did the only thing I could think of: I screamed for Don, the manager, who I have been on first name terms with for several years. He’s friends with my dad. He knows I didn’t do... whatever I was being accused of doing. Don was there in an instant and Pillock and my brother told him in no uncertain terms what happened. TTE denied up and down that she’d done anything. Don did not buy this and apologized and refunded my brother and I our money because he’s awesome like that, thus turning bad service into good service.
But the fact that TTE is still employed means that from now on, my brother is getting the popcorn and drinks.