Work Stories: Episode 29: The Aftermath

Previously on Work Stories, I relayed a tale of a time when I helped a woman to her hotel through the rain.  It was my moment of bragging about a nice thing I had done because I can’t just let the good things rest.  I need to poke them towards people so they can see that I’m not a bitter person.  That doesn’t matter though.  What matters is this week’s Work Story, which I am about to tell you.

I never know which Work Story that I’m going to write about until I actually start writing.  This is about the time that I try to figure out what I’m going to write about this week.  What story should I choose?  I’ve gone through 28 already.  The 29^th shouldn’t be that tough to figure out.  Let me check what I’ve already written about and what I have yet to tell you people.

Here’s one I don’t think I’ve told before.  It involves the museum I work at, my coworker, two guests, and, well…you’ll find out soon enough.  The story gave me one of the best laughs of my working life and I’ll always remember what I experienced that night.  It’s time to get the story underway.

This Work Story is going to be fairly one sided.  A lot of what happened wasn’t witnessed by me.  I witnessed the aftermath.  Thus, I can only tell you my experience or what I was told of what happened before me.  That does not really matter, however, because what I heard about what happened pretty much explains everything in a way that is clear and concise.

As many of my stories begin, I was working the cash register at the museum.  It’s the main thing I do at work, so that’s why the majority of my stories begin at that point.  I’m a cashier.

Anyway, I’m sitting in our ticket booth and I see two people walking toward our entrance giggling.  This isn’t an unusual sight to see.  If people have a good time inside, they sometimes come out smiling and laughing.  It’s nothing out of the ordinary.  Then I saw my coworker coming out behind them at a slightly faster speed.

“I need your tickets,” I heard her say.

They handed her their tickets, which were passes to other places as well as ours.  As they walked away whispering to each other and giggling, she threw the tickets into the garbage and looked at me.  I probably had some sort of confused and curious facial expression because she basically told me what happened right after I looked at her.

“I caught them having sex in the bathroom.  They didn’t even lock the door.”

That answered everything.  That’s why they were kicked out.  That’s why their passes were taken away.  That’s why they were whispering and giggling.  They had been caught bumping uglies in our public washrooms.  That was a first for me, and so far a last.  I’m not saying that there have not been other instances of people having sexual relations in our bathrooms.  Far from it.  That’s probably a common occurrence.  What I’m saying is that it is the one and only time that I’ve been there when somebody got caught.

I didn’t give you much of a story, even though this is called Work Stories.  I hardly ever do.  Most of the time it becomes work experiences, or work sightings.  That’s my fault.  I should have better thought out the title before starting this whole Work Story thing.  Whatever.  I’ll see you next time when I tell you something else that happened involving my work life.

Until then, love me love me, say that you love me.