Professor Snape (severus___snape) wrote in bad_service,
Professor Snape
severus___snape
bad_service

17 X 2

I thought some folks would get a kick out of this one. It's actually a couple months old now but I hadn't discovered this group until I had to find a place to vent about the McD's debacle and get some sleep (note the time on that post).



I live literally next door to a 15-screen cinema multiplex. It's so close that when their parking lot is full it's actually a shorter walk from my door to the box office than it would be to park at the theater.

So anyway, a couple months ago I went to see Sin City and aside from it amounting to 2 hours of my life I'll never get back, I was hassled over buying my ticket. Okay, some background for you: I'm 33 years old and have always looked older than I am. When I was fifteen I was served drinks in restaurants and was never EVER carded. I ask for one ticket. This is what is known as "daddy time," those golden two hours or so during my weekend where I am allowed to shirk parental responsibility and go clear my head. My wife gets the same privilege (although she usually takes a wee bit more time...heh). In short, I take this time out of my week as a means of relieving myself of stress. I ask for the ticket and the brainless moron behind the ticket counter won'r sell me a ticket until I produce ID.

"You're kidding, right? I don't look seventeen to you?"

"Just show me your ID, please."

"Whatever..." I rummage through my wallet and hand her my license. "Here ya go. November 12, 1971. And unless my math is way off that means I'll be turning seventeen for a second time later this year. Now may I please have my ticket? The movie is starting."

I get my ticket, wonder if I should complain but then I figure, whatever. Maybe it's a new policy or something. Well, I polled about a half dozen people around me aged between 19 and 45 and no one else was carded and everyone bought their tickets from Brumhilda. I wish I knew what that was all about but I decided I wasn't going to stew over it, I had 2 hours to chill and chill I would. On my way out I again contemplated having achat with the manager but decided that giving her a hassle for giving me a hassle seemed a little petty and it was also a little late in the game for complaints. They'd think I was just angling for a free pass so I opted out of playing the role of the disgruntled customer.

A month or so later, probably less than that, I went over to the box office to pick up tickets for Star Wars over the weekend. I'm not a fan of long lines so for the big titles I buy early. Same counter person. I ask for 2 tickets and lay my $13 out for them.

"I need to see your ID."

Okay, now I've had it. There is no way I'm going to show ID to buy tickets for a PG-13 movie. None.

"And why do I need to show you ID to buy these tickets?"

"I need to see your ID."

"You mentioned that. And I don't mean to be rude or anything but are there any other phrases in your vocabulary? I only ask because the last time I dealt with you we had the same conversation and either you can't or for some unknown reason WON'T answer my question. This film does not carry a rating that would require an adult to show ID so why must I show mine, please?"

"I need to see your ID."

"All right. I can see that I'm not going to get a straight answer from you. No, you may not see my ID. I'm clearly over thirteen years old and I have the right to purchase these tickets anonymously just like everybody else. And if you disagree with that I'd be glad to continue this discussion in the presence of your immediate supervisor. Now I'd like two tickets for the 3:45 on Saturday and I do not wish to discuss the subject of my age and identity any further."

Not another word from Brumhilda. I got my tickets, she got the money, I left. I still didn't complain. I have no idea why.
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