There's a man who possesses the Baseball Parking Permit - a perk of purchasing season tickets - who parks in lot three. Back when I started working in 2007 for the Coyotes, he's been parking out in the distance. There are theories behind this, but nothing I'm too sure of:
I don't know why it is, but several people who park in lot three get so bent out of shape. I understand, believe you me, that two dollars is a little too much for parking no where near the entrance. I also know how annoying it could be for students who arrived early in the day only to return to their cars to see that the other exits are blocked by our "horses." But don't blame the staff, don't blame anyone who can't help it.
I suppose that's another reason why I chose to name the blog "Confessions of a Parking Lot Nazi" rather than "....Parking Lot Philosopher" - the correlation between my, "I'm sorry, but I'm not in charge of the pricing," to the Nazi's "I only did what I was told to do." That and I'm hardly a philosopher.
I want to be calm with the patrons, despite how rude they can be. Not all of them are so bad and Bossman did state that we had to be polite to them because we're, of course, "the first people to greet them every game." But patience can run thin: I allow others to cuss me out under their breath for how unfair it is, but the moment they accuse me of stealing, then it's a whole other ballgame (no pun intended).
First of all, I wouldn't overcharge to pocket money - it's not in my nature. Sure, like most people, I've thought about it but thinking and doing are two different things, am I right? Secondly, I only (on average) sell about 7 tickets daily (except on Thirsty Thursdays, where I sell about 12). At two dollars a piece, I'll only be taking home $7. It's hardly a big whoop. That's not to mention I'm also horrible at math and the fact that I have to give change. None of the rude, accusing patrons think about that.
And that's why I like Buddy parking in lot 3, because rather than grimacing or cussing me out, he greets me every home game with a smile and a wave. And that, my absentee readers, is worth while.
- The dangers of parking at the stadium (i.e. traffic, the occasional baseball through the windshield, people who don't know how to park, etc.)
- He is health conscious and likes walking
- He doesn't know any better.
I don't know why it is, but several people who park in lot three get so bent out of shape. I understand, believe you me, that two dollars is a little too much for parking no where near the entrance. I also know how annoying it could be for students who arrived early in the day only to return to their cars to see that the other exits are blocked by our "horses." But don't blame the staff, don't blame anyone who can't help it.
I suppose that's another reason why I chose to name the blog "Confessions of a Parking Lot Nazi" rather than "....Parking Lot Philosopher" - the correlation between my, "I'm sorry, but I'm not in charge of the pricing," to the Nazi's "I only did what I was told to do." That and I'm hardly a philosopher.
I want to be calm with the patrons, despite how rude they can be. Not all of them are so bad and Bossman did state that we had to be polite to them because we're, of course, "the first people to greet them every game." But patience can run thin: I allow others to cuss me out under their breath for how unfair it is, but the moment they accuse me of stealing, then it's a whole other ballgame (no pun intended).
First of all, I wouldn't overcharge to pocket money - it's not in my nature. Sure, like most people, I've thought about it but thinking and doing are two different things, am I right? Secondly, I only (on average) sell about 7 tickets daily (except on Thirsty Thursdays, where I sell about 12). At two dollars a piece, I'll only be taking home $7. It's hardly a big whoop. That's not to mention I'm also horrible at math and the fact that I have to give change. None of the rude, accusing patrons think about that.
And that's why I like Buddy parking in lot 3, because rather than grimacing or cussing me out, he greets me every home game with a smile and a wave. And that, my absentee readers, is worth while.
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