The Final Countdown

Here's one of the more petulant customers I've read about, as described by "Fedora the Explorer".

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Hi, I’ll be with you in 2 seconds.

ONE…TWO…

I’m actually in the middle of something here.

THREE…FOUR..FIVE

Sir, my colleague is free at the other counte…

SIX..SE..

Could you stop that, please?

VEN….

(pauses to think)

Yes, I could

(longest pause of my fucking life)

EIGHT…NINE…TEN…

(My manager waves at the man from the counter beside me)

Hello! I’m free here! Come over!

ELEVEN…TWELVE…

(Manager and myself share an incredulous look. Manager gets out of his chair, comes over to my window to address The Counting Cunt.  He takes a bracing breath and a hit of meth.)

Excuse me, but if you don’t mind, my colleague is in the middle of putting a subscription into the system and if she can’t concentrate, she could make a mistake meaning someone could end up with tickets for the wrong date and time. If you come over to my counter, I’ll serve you.

(Counting Cunt Considers)

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO. THIS LADY SAID THAT SHE’D SERVE ME SO SHE WILL BE THE ONE TO SERVE ME. THIRTEEN…FOURTEEN..

(Manager gives me a defeated look and scuttles off to shoot up. I carry on with my subscription and take my sweet time about it. You can count yourself silly, you absolute bell end. He’s up to about THIRTY FOUR when I finally look up.)

Right, sir, how can I help you?

ARE YOU FAMILIAR WITH THE MATHEMATICAL TERM (says a mathematical term that I’ve never heard of)?

Yes, very familiar.

THE TERM REFERS TO  THE WAY IN WHICH PEOPLE USE NUMERICAL TERMS WITHIN COMMUNICATION, FOR EXAMPLE HOW THEY TRANSLATE AND UNDERSTAND WORDS WITH NUMERICAL CONNOTATIONS WHILST CONVERSING. I AM A PROFESSOR IN MATHEMATICS.

Well done.

AND SO YOU’LL UNDERSTAND THAT I AM PARTICULARLY INTERESTED IN HOW CIVILIANS GO ABOUT THIS  AND PATTERNS THAT EMERGE FROM SUCH CONVERSATIONS.

U-huh.

AND THUS, FROM HERE ON IN, WHENEVER I VISIT THIS THEATRE, IT WOULD BE FAIR FOR ME TO DEDUCE THAT WHEN THE STAFF SAY THAT THEY WILL BE WITH ME IN (makes speech marks. I sit on my hands to restrain from breaking his fingers) TWO SECONDS, THEY ACTUALLY MEAN THIRTY FOUR SECONDS.

(He beams at me. I emigrate to Spain)
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I don't know about you, dear reader, but I want to reach through space and time to strangle this fucker.

Future Show

Allow me to set the scene for you- it's a small theatre, just before the start of our second show of the day, and the place is at this point heaving with customers. There's a queue stretching most of the way across the foyer that is made up of people waiting to collect tickets for this performance. Every single one of these customers has, to some degree or another, their head in the clouds.

Seeing as their heads are also stuck firmly up their own arses, these are some impressive contortionists.

"I want to collect tickets under this name."

I can see by their account that tonight's tickets have already been printed, but they aren't in the collections tray. Busy as we are, I decide not to care enough to ask questions.

"Here you go."

"These are tonight's tickets."

"Yes."

"We already have these. We want to collect tickets for the show three months from now."

Staring hard, I try my very best to make her combust with my mind alone. No dice, for the reasons I then outlined.

"You might need to tell us that kind of information in future. We can't divine this kind of information with psychic powers. There's a show starting in 9 minutes, and a foyer filled with people queuing to collect tickets for it. We don't read minds. It's not in our skill set."

Apparently I shouldn't lecture customers anymore.

Lightning Round

Courtesy of the Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/stillsoldout/), here are a selection of various people's brief experiences in various customer service positions.

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• When working in a clothes shop (elderly) ladies used to lift up their jumpers to show me their bra & ask if we stocked the same one.

• "What does 'restricted leg room' mean?"

         "...it means the leg room is restricted"

• When informing a rotten customer about how consumer laws have changed, she replied "They don't change laws".

• "When it says 'restricted view', does this just mean we are restricted to our seats for the entire performance?"

• When telling a person that receiving credit card information by email is high risk, I was told I'm an idiot in several different words and that no one can possibly access the emails because only this person has the password. 

• When i was working in retail, during xmas, I was asked "would you wear this jacket outdoors?". To which i replied "would you wear it indoors?". Not happy with my answer they proceeded to tell me how cheeky I was and said they weren't going to buy the outdoor jacket. At this stage I couldn't care less and finished it with "if you take it or not, I still get paid" and i just walked away. They still bought it.

• "Have you got a lift?"

         "No, I'm afraid not.''
         "Not even for my mum?''
         "You should have said! This way to the secret mum's lift."

• A customer had a stroke outside the fitting rooms, which we then closed off for her family and so the paramedics could help save her. And then a customer complained to me that our fitting rooms were closed

• And then, this other time, a customer shit in the fitting rooms

• "You can't try on underwear"

         "Why?!"

• "We can't accept returns or exchanges on any underwear"

         "Why?!"

• Customer: Do you have Chinatown?

         Me: Yep, here it is.
         Customer: And is that about China?
         Me: No, it's ChinaTOWN, in Los Angeles. It's a film noir about corruption                and water disputes and land ownership.
         Customer: And do you have any films about China?
         Me: I don't know. We can't check by location.
         Customer: And how much would a film about China cost?

• *customer points at child* 

         "What size would my child be?"

•  "I love your cinema so much, I want to DIE in screen 1, and let you guys find me. Wouldn't that be niiiice?"

         "Erm, maybe not for the the staff who found you...."
         "WHY NOT?"

• "Are you sure you don't have any seats, you know, tucked away for famous people?"

         "Why would you get one of them?"

• "Are you entitled to any discounts, sir?"

         "Does being handsome count?"

• A customer came up in Edinburgh home of thousands of shows and said he would like a ticket to the show that had blue in the poster.

• Me: So that's two tickets for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

        Customer: But I want the matinee!

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The Yes No Gameshow

"So, the only seats we have left are in the Upper Circle."
"No."
"Yes."
"I want stalls."
"No."

Postcode Lottery

"The letter at the end of your postcode, was that 'E' for Echo?"
"Yes."
"I'm not seeing anything under that. It's definitely 'E' for Echo?"
"Yes."
"It couldn't be 'A' as in Alpha?"
"No...."
"OK, well...."
"It's 'A' as in Apple."

At what point is murder justified?

Standard Holiday

"Our shows used to have three week runs, but now they're on for two."
"No, no, that's unacceptable. I'm on holiday on those dates. You used to have weeks to choose from."
"We still do. Just two, instead of three."
"But a standard British holiday is for two weeks!"

Seriously?

"We were going to alter the length of our production schedule, but Margaret's off on the pull to Magaluf with her bowling club."

Piece of Cake

"So, I see from your account that your address is ____."
"Wow, you know everything. You probably even know my favourite cake."
"Yep. Carrot cake."
"That's right actually."

HOLY SHIT GUYS! I'M A PSYCHIC CAKE DETECTIVE!

Friendly

As related by "Beer Man Hand Spleen"

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"I don't like your attitude. Northern Irish people are supposed to be friendly! My husband's from Omagh!"

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Are we pretending The Troubles never happened at this point?

You Can't Take It With You

Here's a brief story from "Whatever you do don't call me Moobs".

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A customer had a question. She'd booked tickets for a show that was a couple of years away.

"I'm 82, my friend is 85. What happens if we die before then? Would we get a refund?"

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And that's the story of why your great grandmother was buried with a couple of theatre tickets.

Wonderland

Another story emailed in by "Queen of the Harpies". Nice to hear from you again, your majesty.

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Working at Christmas "wonderland" box office speaking to competition winner post "wonderland".

"Have fun?"
"To be honest I think my daughter was a bit too old for the Santa experience....she's 12"
"Ah yeah...maybe so. Well did she at least enjoy the ice skating? :)"
"Well no, she's in a wheelchair"
"Oh my god I'm sorry"

*cartoon neck collar pull*
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Do It Yourself

Time for a story submitted through the email address. That's stillsoldoutblog@gmail.com if you weren't aware, and wanted to send anything in.

This coming from "The Devil's Favourite DJ" is not actually related to work in front of house, or box office, but it matters not. It's a story of simple nightmares from a DIY superstore.

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Bank Holidays. A beacon of hope to others (and now me in my office job); an unmitigated blood red hit on Customer Service employees calender's around the world. 

The June Bank Holiday in this store particularly resembled many a horror film, what with an abundance of potential murder weapons in the gardening tool aisle and an increase in rope/blade sales.

That being said, this particular bank holiday was especially busy. Not that this is an excuse in my story, it's not, but it is a reason as to why my customer interactions that day may not have been up to par. (They rarely were, even on quiet Tuesday's, but I digress).

Customer: Hi there, would you be able to measure out how many grass rolls I would need for my garden?

(I very nearly make my usual Dad joke "Isn't Grass still illegal?", but I resist)

Me: Actually I work in indoor gardening, and to be honest my measuring skills are not up to scratch. I pathetically got a D3 in pass maths, so I'll just get my friend from the flooring section to work it out for you.

This is true, but I gave out the black blot on my Leaving Cert as a way of being friendly with the customer and also to let them know why I couldn't help. This brings me to how busy the day was. The floor section is about 100 metres from gardening. I get nabbed by 3 different customers on my way, with various questions relating to the likes of lawnmowers, weed whackers (Isn't Weed still Illegal?) and garden furniture. Not only this, but I'm called to the returns desk to deal with a faulty engine. In the meleé, I forget about the woman and her need of grass measurement. No, it shouldn't have happened, but it did. My fault, I hold my hands up. But what transpired next was......well read on.

I look to my right as I'm dealing with the faulty engine and see the woman struggling to pull a cart of heavy grass rolls (Illegal?). I excuse myself from the broken engine man for a moment and go to help the woman and apologise profusely. 

Customer: Get your manager now!

Me: I'm very sorry. And yes of course I will.

I actually got on quite well with this manager, so I knew he'd ask for my side straight away, I'd get the usual "just keep an eye on everything in future" and it would be fine. My manager comes over and asks what the problem is.

Customer:  He (pointing at yours truly) forgot all about me! Not only that, he told me how he only has a D3 in pass maths! How can you hire someone like that?? Incompetence and stupidity in one!

My manager apologises to the woman, helps her to the till, comes back to me and says:

Manager: What an absolute bitch

I concur. Yes it was my fault for forgetting about her, but it's her fault for being such a cold cow to throw up a personal detail an 18 year old told her to counteract a lapse in concentration. Fuck you indeed ma'am

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Isn't that illegal?

Greensleeves

To make up for radio silence while I've been on holiday, here's one of my favourites.

A customer came into the box office to buy tickets from a colleague for four separate dates of a famous, extremely popular musical. No issues, seemed like a grand dude. What stood out were the complete tattoo sleeves going up each arm, all related to the show he was buying tickets for. Lines & verses, pictures of characters, the works.

"Quite a fan it seems. How many times have you seen it?"
"Never. This will be my first time."

But....the tattoos....

"I've seen loads of clips on youtube."

Cancelled Show

Terrible news tonight, as the local council have contacted us to deny permission for us to use our rehearsal space for a show.

Unfortunately, this means we will have to cancel a month's worth of performances.

Worse still, the show finished at the end of August. Refunds are going to be a bitch, but first we have to work out how to travel back in time.

Veterans

"Let's just get this straight, we're veteran theatre goers. We've been coming here for years, OK?"
"....I mean, I wasn't about to claim you were novices...."
"I just mean, you can't pull the wool over our eyes with this stuff."

It's been 15 of the most intense seconds of my life, and I don't even know what he wants yet.

"We bought tickets over the phone that we were told were going to be central. Well, the tickets have arrived in the post, and I've come here on the bus to say that...oh....oh these are central, aren't they? My wife was convinced you'd sold us tickets at the side instead and....well....thank you, bye."

Love you, bye.

Fuck Jesus?

Today, we have a couple of stories from the first box office gig of "The Crimson Chin". She was young, innocent and full of hope and helpfulness.

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"I know some tickets will be getting released for that sold out show any minute now, so would it be OK if I waited on the line until two tickets show up?"
"Yes, of course. Fingers crossed. I'll just pop you on hold while we wait."

*2 minutes pass while this lovely man chats to a friend*

"Hello, sir. There are two tickets now available for that show. Sir? Sir!? Sir, the tickets are vanishing in front of my eyes! Sir, do you need these tickets!? SIR!? OH MY GOD! NOOOO!"

It was at this point that I noticed I had never taken the customer off hold, and that they had not heard a word I had said.

"Oh hello, sir. Two tickets was it? I'm afraid only one was released. Sorry."
"Oh that's a pity. Thanks for trying."

Later in that same job....

"Hello, I would like two tickets to...."
*explosions ring through the night sky as a jet streaks overhead*
"FUCK! JESUS!"

At this point, I hid under the ticket desk from the bombs. No bombs. I peaked up from under the counter to see a quite bewildered and startled customer.

"Nobody else thought we were being attacked?"
"What have I told you about cursing at customers? Those were fireworks, as part of the festival."
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Pot Luck

"Have you had any tickets returned for tonight's sold out performance?"
"I'm afraid we don't have any at present. We did get two back a little while ago, but they have been picked up. So that does show that we are getting returns occasionally, and it is worth checking back."
"WHAT!?"

What follows is a grown woman of some 70 years panting, and starting to sob as she throws a tantrum that could shake her new hips loose.

Human Tantrum: "Why can't you just call people when tickets come back!? This is SO unfair!"
Boxo: "We're not gong to do that. This show has been sold out for weeks. People have been calling us every 5-10 minutes of every day in that time. If we were to call everyone when tickets come back, we would have no time for anything else. If we had a waiting list, you would be approximately 600 names down that list."
Human Tantrum: "This has been so discouraging."
Boxo: "You're welcome to check back later. Have a lovely day."

This is not a lottery for a kidney transplant. It's an attempt to get tickets to see a show. A show that was on sale for 5 months before it even got busy, let alone sold out. A show that you could have booked for at any point in that time. A show that is on tour and will therefore be in several other locations in the coming months.

Do you want us to get your mum for you? In short, grow the fuck up.

*Update*

She was not done for the day. She did check back Several hours would pass before she phoned the box office, a time in which tickets came and went to the soothing sounds of the jackhammer being used to dig up the concrete outside the theatre entrance.

"Have there been any tickets returned for tonight?"
"There's none available at present, unfortunately."

I heard the unmistakable whine from the other end of the line, and my customer service voice began to fade. I heard something crashing to the floor on her end, as items were thrown in frustration.

Arch Nemesis: "You're telling me there's not one ticket!?"
Boxo: "We are completely sold out tonight."
Arch Nemesis: "You can't find just one ticket?"
Boxo: "There are no tickets available for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "I'm such a loyal customer to this theatre that...."
Boxo: "Well, it has been on sale for six months."
Arch Nemesis: "I know, but I cannot believe that you cannot find one ticket for a loyal customer."
Boxo: "After 6 months on sale, there are no tickets available for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "There must be one in one of the boxes!"
Boxo: "There are no tickets available for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "This has never been a problem before. I know you keep seats back...."
Boxo: "Every single seat in the auditorium has been sold for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "Well, could you put me through to the Front of House manager then."
Boxo: "The Front of House manager has no control over ticket sales."
Arch Nemesis: "I was put through to her once before and she...."
Boxo: "She has no control over tickets, and 100% of the seats have been sold for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "But...."
Boxo: "There are only so many ways I can tell you that this performance is sold out and I think I have used all of them."
Arch Nemesis: "So, you're not going to pass me through to the Front of House manager?"
Boxo: "There are no tickets available for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "Not one!?"
Boxo: "There are no tickets available for tonight's performance."
Arch Nemesis: "FINE!"

I think that, most of all, I will miss our chats. We'll always have this never-ending phone call.

King of Trios

As this is clearly a far reaching blog with an international audience, we have a submission from the glorious shores of The Emerald Isle. And not just any submission, it's a three in one. Take it away, "Queen of the Harpies".

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"Hello, I would like tickets to *excessively sold out show*."
"Unfortunately the entirety of *excessively sold out show* is sold out for its run."

"*chuckle* I don't think you understand....see I'm the director of *some small time out of city theatre*."
"....yeah, it's still sold out."

"*annoyed noise, hangs up phone*"

Sorry pal, not even Holy Mary herself could get into this show.

"Hello, I'd like to go to Susan's show."

"....I'm sorry...who's Susan?"
"Susan Generic Name, Two tickets to her show please."
"I'm sorry, I don't know who this person is. Do you know the name of the show she's in?"

"No."

"Do you know the name of the company?"

"No."

"...do you know what day the show is on?"

"No."

".................do you know what time the show is on?"
"No."

"Do you know anything about this show?"

"...AH....NO!...I think its on at 7:15pm????"
"There are no shows on at that time."

"Come on, it's comedy or something."
"I'm sorry I can't help you until you know the basic information about the show you want me to book you"

"*angry annoyed noises"
"Ok bye now"

Seriously?

"Hey, I'm an idiot, I accidentally booked tickets to the event being done by *some group* in Dublin, when I meant to book for Detroit. Can you swap them?"

"Sorry, we are in no way affiliated with *some group's website*. As you have booked them through our festival website. I cannot swap these tickets for you. We also have a no refunds or exchanges policy...."

"I'm simply asking for a swap. How can you not swap them?"

"You have booked with *festival some group is a part of* not with *some group's website*. We have absolutely no contact with this site or overall company..or branch of *some group*."

"Oh come on, your website (actually *some group's website*) is EXTREMELY misleading and confusing. Not at ONE stage did it say Dublin."

"I just checked their site, and if you click on the link for Dublin, as you have done, it redirects you to our site where it says *festival name* in bright colours. It says Dublin the entire way through the order. The name of the event even includes the word Dublin at the top. You also paid in Euros and not dollars at the end of your transaction."

"Can I at least have a refund?"

"I'm afraid we have a no refunds or exchanges policy*."

*especially if you're a complete and utter eejit.
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I think I need to lie down after all this.

The Box

"The only ticket we have left for tonight would be in the box, and is restricted view."
"I don't want it. What else is there?"
"That's all we have I'm afraid."

At this point, our beloved customer started to walk away, only to turn her exit into a glorious disco spin and re-enter my life.

"Fine, I'll take it."
"Alright, so as it is in the box, there will be another person in there alongside you."
"You didn't tell me that before!"
"I'm telling you now."
"But you didn't tell me before I'd decided to buy the tickets!"
"....you haven't bought the tickets."
"I'll have to think about this. I'm sorry for being surly before."
"Not a problem."
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME THAT I WASN'T BEING SURLY!"

Marry me.

The Honour System

A brief one sent in by "Ken Barry", suffering the whims of the upper class at an event in a parish church.

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"If my friends don't arrive with the tickets, I'll pay on the way out."

Of course you will.
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Harsh Reality

"The price of these tickets.... You just want our money, don't you?"

This one actually comes up a lot, and it's hard to answer in any way other than slapping your forehead and saying "duh". It might not be the most eloquent response, but it would get the point across.

We're not your friend. We're not a spouse stuck in this abusive relationship with you. We're a business who want to continue being a business. Stop acting so hurt that we're not letting you shout at us because we find you witty.

Is there anything else we can help you with today, beloved person who I don't know?

Single Seat

"Two tickets for the matinee please."
"I think we're still sold out, but I'll just double check for you. How many tickets are you looking for?"

It's been a fruitless search for days, weeks even, to try to find any available seats for this show. So, it's a little bit of a pleasure to see we've had one become available. And a little less to know that they need two.

"Unfortunately, we've only got one single seat available."
"Oh, and where would that be?"

They seem a little too excited, but I point it out on the seating plan, being sure to stress again that we have just one single place left.

"Is the one next to it free?"
"No, as I've explained, we just have the one single seat remaining."
"And do you have two of them?"

At this point I have to restrain myself from asking if they think "single seat" means that it's in the "unmarried section", but instead just solemnly inform them that today s not their day.

Reprint

"I want to collect my ticket."
"What name's it booked under?"
"Yeah, to collect."
"Uh huh, what name did you book under?"
"Two tickets. Stalls."

We do this dance for a while, The Ticket Tango. When finally all basic information is out in the open, there is no sign of their tickets in the collections tray. So, a few seconds of detective work later I have a suspicion, soon confirmed by the computer.

"This was a print at home ticket."

I'm met with a blank stare I know all too well. It's like that ex-girlfriend you keep running in to, but never actually want to speak to ever again.

"You ordered a Print at Home ticket when you booked online."
"Yeah."
"Which means you should have printed this at home."
"But I don't have a printer."

Every. God. Damn. Day.

Lost Prop

I feel like this is the point at which I should add a disclaimer:

Everything contained within this blog genuinely happened. Including this post.

"Oh, yes, hello there. Frightfully sorry to bother you, but.... Well, we came along to the theatre last night, and....you see my grandson appears to have misplaced his musket."

I'm not sure how to....is it loaded!?

"It's a toy. A child's musket."

I see.

Headline Act

"I'm wondering if you can help me. I've been such an idiot."

Alright, this I can work with. The customer is smiling, sheepish and contrite. This is crucial. They've fucked up, and they know that anything I can do to unfuck this is a bonus. This is going to be a walk in the park.

I'm the real idiot.

Customer: "You see, I booked tickets for a show, not realising that's not on for another year. I know you have a completely different show on just now, so could I exchange them? I realise it's totally my fault."

Boxo: "I'm afraid not. Our present show is more or less sold out, and as it's a different production company we've been informed that we cannot exchange those tickets for this performance. We have a couple of tickets left for today, but you would need to pay for them."

Shit. What's that Baudelaire line from The Usual Suspects? The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. Well, hark, the devil's come a callin'.

Customer: "You could help me, you're just choosing not to."

Boxo: "That's certainly not the case. Unfortunately, there's no refunds or exchanges allowed on tickets purchased for that show, and we are unable to exchange for shows between these differing companies regardless."

Customer: "Speak to your manager. Fix this right now."

Boxo: "I already have. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do in this instance."

Customer: "I want you to look at that young girl sitting over there. She's flown over from Malawi. She's only here for a few days, and you're telling me that you won't let her see this show?"

On a scale of one to "oh come the fuck on", this is pretty god damn high up on the Guilt Trip Scale. Way to pass the burden of your own fuck up. My level of patience for your bullshit just plummeted through the floor.

Customer: "I worked in a theatre. I know that you can help me, but you are just choosing not to."

Boxo: "Why would I do that? It's in my best interests to get this taken care of. I have no personal stake in your happiness. I would not benefit professionally, nor personally from refusing to help you."

Customer: "I'm sure the newspapers would LOVE to hear about this. Is that what you want? To be in the paper?"

Theatre in Expecting Basic Competence Shocker!

See pages 4-9 as the scandal of requiring people to have some semblance of common sense, and to take responsibility for their own actions develops.

Customer: "I want you to go to that poor little girl, I want you to look her in the eyes, and I want you to tell her that she can't come to this show. Are you OK with making a child cry? I want you to explain to her why her dreams are dashed."
Boxo: "I'm not going to do that. You'll have to explain to her that you have booked tickets for the wrong show."

End result of this is a story as old as time, the customer creating enough of a public scene that the management felt they had no choice but to bend the rules to breaking point. Customer gets what they want, perpetuating the cycle that encourages bad behaviour as a means to get your way.

At least the kid got to see the show. That part is the silver lining.

Ticket Burking

Sound the claxon, we have our first contributor. Take it away "Hit Him With A Chair!"....

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A guy was collecting his tickets, and the last name on his order was Burke Burke. I was wondering whether it was a typo or his actual last name. Lost in this thought, I asked if he could provide the card he had "Burked with".

This would have been bad enough in and of itself, but for the addition of my boss saying "Burke your tickets!" several times while laughing. She did this without realising that the customer was still standing in front of me within earshot.

I might just work people's second names into all conversations going forward.
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School Group

Teachers are an infuriating law unto themselves in a theatre environment. Come on, lads, you're responsible for shaping the young minds of the future, and yet if asked to complete a simple transaction by a given time you melt the fuck down.

There's a sold out show in the theatre just now, and the company are understandably putting pressure on large school groups to pay up for the reservations that are already days, or even weeks past due.

The scene being set, enter our players for the evening.

Teacher: "I need to pay for these tickets."
Boxo: "Alright, that will come to ___."
Teacher: "No, I need to change the number of people going now. Four people can't make it."
Boxo: "Oh, OK. I'll just speak to someone in groups, round the back, and we'll change the number. How many tickets do you still need?"
Teacher: "18."
Boxo: "Alright, that should be everything taken care of now. So that was 18 tickets for...."
Teacher: "Plus one." *now impatiently tapping card on the counter*
Boxo: "Excuse me? Is it 18 tickets?"
Teacher: "Yes, 18 tickets."
Boxo: "Alright, the total price for 18 tickets will be...."
Teacher: "18 plus one."
Boxo: "How many people in total are coming to this performance?"
Teacher: "18."
Boxo: "Are you sure that...."
Teacher: "Plus one."

Sweet mother-Christ-ing fuck. They've only gone and replaced the number 19 on the syllabus. All totals must now be expressed in relation to the number 18.

Is it?

I watched him enter in his long winter coat, shorts, socks and sandals. I know the weather can be quite changeable here, but that footwear is completely at odds with your plans of being kept dry, man. He approached with a brochure I'd never seen before, pushed it under my nose, and jabbed at it with his finger. All without taking his eyes off it to acknowledge my existence.

"I want tickets for this."

"I don't think that's an event at this theatre unfortunately."

"It is." came the snorted reply.

It wasn't.