I arrived later than usual (but not late) because the car died and Jyg dropped me off. When I walked into the stadium, I noticed that no one else was there. Super's truck was parked in the lot, but none of the other parking guys were there. After another eight minutes of solitude, I decided to enter head office to see if any of the guys were there. Instead, I found myself greeted by Bossman who was still on my bad side because of how he treated my mother.
I told him I was there because no one else was outside and I was curious who was scheduled for the day. Fred was on schedule and a girl whose name I forgot - she used to be in promotion (meaning, if there was something being given away for free, she was there giving it away). Bossman said to give him another few minutes, and Super added that Fred was coming in a little late. Super and I wound up setting up the barriers.
After set up, I met the girl who would be taking parking one and I told Super because Fred was running late, I'd take his place. Anyway, parking three would be slow today anyway. Fred could have it when he got there (which he later did and told me he didn't understand how I can hack it - "It's boring and they complain too much.")
So, for today, I graduated to parking two, which was packed. I sold fifty tickets, bringing in a total of $150.
While in parking two, I was nearly hit by a giggling girl. Annoyance comes in a single question: "Was I supposed to stop?" I told Super earlier that people don't stop when they see someone standing on the road, which is why we take cones with us. The orange cone triggers something in the human psyche that flashes stop in their minds. Super used the cones to block off a part of the lot where only one blockade was placed.
Later, another woman came by and complained that we charged too much (an old man did the same, but his story's lame) and she was spending a lot of money just to see her husband play (he's number 13 and kept fouling and striking out). Apparently, other stadiums only charge a dollar to park. She ended her diatribe with, "And you all don't even pay him that much."
We all don't pay him. The team's management pays him. If you want to lodge a complaint about your husband's pay check and the toll price, take it up with them, not the lowly parking lot Nazi.
Another couple drove up later and were astounded at the high price:
But the thing that really made my day was the honesty. During the rush, I got two people (probably four cars apart) who told me their significant others had their wallets. One of them told me his girlfriend had it and that he would go get it and would come back and pay me. The one that followed, a father of a child under one, gave me a similar story: "My wallet's in my wife's car. If you let me in, I'll come back and pay you."
I didn't expect to see either of them, and I was half right. The father came back, apologize for taking too long and said he was worried that I was probably already thinking that he wasn't coming back. I told him that I was amazed by his honesty, a virtue I never see anymore.
I doubt you're reading this, sir, but you did make my day. Thank you.
I told him I was there because no one else was outside and I was curious who was scheduled for the day. Fred was on schedule and a girl whose name I forgot - she used to be in promotion (meaning, if there was something being given away for free, she was there giving it away). Bossman said to give him another few minutes, and Super added that Fred was coming in a little late. Super and I wound up setting up the barriers.
After set up, I met the girl who would be taking parking one and I told Super because Fred was running late, I'd take his place. Anyway, parking three would be slow today anyway. Fred could have it when he got there (which he later did and told me he didn't understand how I can hack it - "It's boring and they complain too much.")
So, for today, I graduated to parking two, which was packed. I sold fifty tickets, bringing in a total of $150.
While in parking two, I was nearly hit by a giggling girl. Annoyance comes in a single question: "Was I supposed to stop?" I told Super earlier that people don't stop when they see someone standing on the road, which is why we take cones with us. The orange cone triggers something in the human psyche that flashes stop in their minds. Super used the cones to block off a part of the lot where only one blockade was placed.
Later, another woman came by and complained that we charged too much (an old man did the same, but his story's lame) and she was spending a lot of money just to see her husband play (he's number 13 and kept fouling and striking out). Apparently, other stadiums only charge a dollar to park. She ended her diatribe with, "And you all don't even pay him that much."
We all don't pay him. The team's management pays him. If you want to lodge a complaint about your husband's pay check and the toll price, take it up with them, not the lowly parking lot Nazi.
Another couple drove up later and were astounded at the high price:
Man: Three dollars?!That sort of accusation annoys me. I know that I would've made $50 if I overcharged, but the truth is, I'm actually a nice guy despite my cynical attitude. I don't believe in screwing over the working class.
Woman: Nah. You just wanna pocket the dollar.
But the thing that really made my day was the honesty. During the rush, I got two people (probably four cars apart) who told me their significant others had their wallets. One of them told me his girlfriend had it and that he would go get it and would come back and pay me. The one that followed, a father of a child under one, gave me a similar story: "My wallet's in my wife's car. If you let me in, I'll come back and pay you."
I didn't expect to see either of them, and I was half right. The father came back, apologize for taking too long and said he was worried that I was probably already thinking that he wasn't coming back. I told him that I was amazed by his honesty, a virtue I never see anymore.
I doubt you're reading this, sir, but you did make my day. Thank you.
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