What the hell, old people? Why do none of you have tact?

There was almost a riot at the concert I was ushering for tonight. I wish this were one of my classic cases of hyperbole, but it is not.

The problem? The ticket salespeople showed up and discovered someone had stolen the mouse and keyboard to the ticketing computer.

The solution? Get a new mouse and keyboard and ask the people who needed to buy tickets to wait.

THAT IS WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IN A SANE UNIVERSE, ANYWAY. Instead, they started screaming at the poor ticketing girl. Actually screaming, people. And she just kind of sat there and wilted and tried to explain the situation, but the crowd was having none of it because God I hate people. Meanwhile, the other two ushers and I are standing by the door doing our best impressions of >:o

"Fuck this," I muttered to Daryl, tossing him my programs and walking over to the mob. (I have this vague feeling that I made out with the ticket girl freshman year. Or wanted to. Or maybe want to now. Who knows. Either way, I needed to save her.)

"How hard would it be for us to pay you and just have you take a count on a piece of paper? I do not understand what the problem is!" shrieked one of our regulars.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said in my best teacher voice, and lo! the mob was silenced. "We are doing everything we can to get you all tickets and seats in a timely fashion. The concert doesn't start until 7:30, so if you bear with us and stop distracting the ticket people while they work out their technical issues, we shouldn't have a problem."

Stony stares.

"Any UPS students, please talk to the ushers by the door and take your seats now. We'll count you ourselves. Those of you who need to pay, please realize that someone has stolen the mouse and keyboard to the ticketing computer, which is what is causing the delay."

"That's terrible!" muttered a man in the back, and I listened while the news was passed back along the line.

"Why can't you just do it manually?" barked the ringleader.

"Ma'm, we are student staff, and there are a specific set of rules for ticket sales we are required to follow unless we want to lose our jobs. None of the management seem to have made it here tonight, and are also not answering their phones." (Believe me, we tried to call.)

"Isn't there a Plan B?!"

"I wish there were. Here, let me open the main doors so you don't have to hold them yourselves. Excuse me."

And thus the riot was quelled, and there were adulations from the ticketpeople, who have vowed to love me till the day I die.

Have I mentioned I fucking hate people?

The woman from brunch apparently thinks I am "very rude."

I find two things amusing about this:
1) The irony, and
2) Fam saw the need to tell me so.

I knew there was a reason why I never go to brunch.

Just got back from eating out with Fam and some friends of hers. I knew it was going to be a long brunch when the following ensued:

"Where do you go to school?"
"The University of Puget Sound."
"Oh, university! What year are you?"
"I'm a graduate student."
*pause* "And what are you working toward?"
"A Master's in Education."
"Oh, my. You don't look at all old enough to be teaching!"

...

Odd. You looked old enough to have tact. Looks like we were both wrong.

I wish I could say that was the worst that happened. Unfortunately, this woman seemed to take an immediate dislike to me. We made it through dessert before things finally crumbled, but when she went off on a rant about how "today's kids don't care about anyone except themselves," I lost it.

Angry Old Bat: "When I was in school I got good grades because I wanted to make my mother happy! No one does that anymore."
Fam: "Lauren, what was your motivation for grades? Did you want to make me happy?"

They both turned to stare at me expectantly. Now, what I wanted to do was tell these idiotic women that when I did well it was taken for granted, so it wouldn't have mattered either way. Or I wanted to point out, yet again, that she was not my mother. (Sorry, mom's still responsible for more than half of my life, Fam. And she will be for another six years.)

Instead, I stare at them and say "I don't understand the question." Fam realizes it's a joke and laughs, but this woman loses it. We get into a discussion about me teaching, and Fam makes the mistake of saying I can teach with my tongue stud in.

"What sort of standard do you think you'll be setting for the students? Why can't your generation not conform?"
"How is a pierced tongue any different from pierced ears?"
"Because pierced tongues supposedly enhance ORAL SEX."
"Ma'm, I wouldn't know." *lies through teeth*
*sputters* "Well, I'm not talking about you! I'm just saying teachers with weird hair, or dreadlocks, they're setting a standard for kids! At the school I worked at, all the kids had to wear uniforms and the teacher shook their hands at the door in the morning! You probably think that's stupid, don't you?"
"No, actually, that's how it worked at my last placement."
"Oh..."
"I think you're making some very dangerous generalizations."

And then the check came.