I go in sick yesterday, thinking I was going to be a Ticket Troll. When I got there, I see Estella at the gate, money bags in hand. I know the worse is coming. Because my sickness dealt with my stomach, I requested them not to send me all the way to lot 3 because with the heat, I might just wind up puking my guts out with no one ever knowing it was happening. So they gave Fred 3 and I stayed in lot 2. For the most part, it was grand.
Until the old f@#k in the red Ford truck pulled up. I've dealt with him this past home stand. He's a bitter old man who thinks the world owes him a great deal of everything. The first time, he cussed me under his breath - in Spanish, I should add, so it makes the insults way more annoying that those who do it in English. This time, however, I was running out of fives and I hate giving out ones in change - c'mon people, if the toll's $3, why don't you just give me a five or a ten? Stop using that, "Oh the ATM only gives out twenties" excuse because you can stop at a store and buy a drink.
Anyway, I'm on the phone, calling Super to bring me some fives or ones or something, as long as it's change. The old f@#k in the red Ford truck pulls up, I take his money and give him his ticket, with the phone glued to my ear in hopes that someone on the other line will answer it. As he drives away, however, the old f@#k in the red Ford truck, again deciding to cuss me out in Spanish, tells me to get off the phone and do my goddamn job. To which, I turn and blatantly, in English, tell him to go f@#k himself. Two can play that game, but only one of us knows both languages.
I told Fred about it and he's the one who pointed out that he drove a Ford. Because I know the truck he drove was red, the description matched. If I'm ever at lot 2 again, and that old fuck comes in with his attitude. I'm snapping a picture of him, his plates and then running them over to Bossman so the fucker can get banned from the stadium. There's not need to treat anyone in such a fashion.
Like I told Jyg, this guy's just in a permanent bad mood. I'm usually in one, as well, but I, at least, have the decency to stray away from things during it. Or if it's because he has to pay for parking, then he can find another lot - a so-called free lot - and park. Or he doesn't have to go to the game at all; he can just sit at home and wank off. Just as long as he doesn't bother me with his shit.
And that's all I have to say about that. I'm in the process of making a list of dos and don'ts for both parking lot Nazis and those who inhabit the lot.
Until the old f@#k in the red Ford truck pulled up. I've dealt with him this past home stand. He's a bitter old man who thinks the world owes him a great deal of everything. The first time, he cussed me under his breath - in Spanish, I should add, so it makes the insults way more annoying that those who do it in English. This time, however, I was running out of fives and I hate giving out ones in change - c'mon people, if the toll's $3, why don't you just give me a five or a ten? Stop using that, "Oh the ATM only gives out twenties" excuse because you can stop at a store and buy a drink.
Anyway, I'm on the phone, calling Super to bring me some fives or ones or something, as long as it's change. The old f@#k in the red Ford truck pulls up, I take his money and give him his ticket, with the phone glued to my ear in hopes that someone on the other line will answer it. As he drives away, however, the old f@#k in the red Ford truck, again deciding to cuss me out in Spanish, tells me to get off the phone and do my goddamn job. To which, I turn and blatantly, in English, tell him to go f@#k himself. Two can play that game, but only one of us knows both languages.
I told Fred about it and he's the one who pointed out that he drove a Ford. Because I know the truck he drove was red, the description matched. If I'm ever at lot 2 again, and that old fuck comes in with his attitude. I'm snapping a picture of him, his plates and then running them over to Bossman so the fucker can get banned from the stadium. There's not need to treat anyone in such a fashion.
Like I told Jyg, this guy's just in a permanent bad mood. I'm usually in one, as well, but I, at least, have the decency to stray away from things during it. Or if it's because he has to pay for parking, then he can find another lot - a so-called free lot - and park. Or he doesn't have to go to the game at all; he can just sit at home and wank off. Just as long as he doesn't bother me with his shit.
And that's all I have to say about that. I'm in the process of making a list of dos and don'ts for both parking lot Nazis and those who inhabit the lot.
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