Hecklers, Nazis & Toll Jumpers

Toll's three dollars (I was in lot one, today). Across the street it's two dollars. It's simple. In the years that the city has had a baseball team, there has never - EVER - been a time when you didn't have to pay the price. Granted that it has gone up significantly, it's still nevertheless a charged fee.

Today, I got a woman who drove behind me, following Estella. She probably figured if the lady in the black truck didn't have to pay, then she didn't either. The lady in the black truck, of course, works at the stadium. They caught her at the door. There's no need for that anymore.

Ever since Bossman told us (meaning me, as I'm sure my reputation has followed me) we could not chase cars anymore, parking three has been less than stellar. However, I've discovered a cure for this. If I can't catch them in the act, then I'm going to embarrass them at the door. Well, today Fred got lot 3 and he was more than frustrated with the people. And there wasn't a thing he could do. I told him that the rules have changed and if he's going to play the game well, then he has to phone in the toll jumpers. I'd bust them too, if I had to. There's no reason for them to jump ship - if honest hard working people have to dish it out, then everyone should have to dish it out.

Problem is, now we've got a whole new set of problems. Escalation.

Much like the ending of Batman Begins, the way we play "the game" has changed since 2007. When I started chasing the cars down, they found other means of getting by me. Sometimes they'd come in packs. I'd leave my post as one of them jumped the median, while the other one pulled in. Chances are, I couldn't get both of them, and I couldn't be in two places at once. Today, the toll jumpers found a new way in - run over the barricades. City property defaced by a blue, white-striped Mustang. Or they speed right by us, knowing full well that we can't follow. When we call in descriptions, there are so many, how can we get them all down at once?



And Toll Jumpers aren't the only problem plaguing the stadium, leaving everyone in a pissy mood. The rate of insanity with the Hecklers has reached an all time low. Yesterday, there were only about six men who were booing, name calling and swearing - today they brought their girlfriends and others like them. Super had to go to great lengths to walk them out of the ball park because they were now attempting to start a fight with the visiting team - and I'm sorry, you hecklers out there, chances are the team will wipe the floors with you because you're all talk and no muscle. And next home stand, they'll be there again and probably worse.

But not only have they started with the visitors, but also a gang of teenage hecklers parked themselves on the home side. Estella's alone in the taking care of the crowd while we're off being parking lot Nazis. When we come in, we're only adding two extra guys. We can't be everywhere at once. We're walking around, attempting to keep the crowd calm.

It was a good day, nevertheless. Mainly because it was the last game of the home stand and I get nine days off to do whatever I please.

On a side note, the parking lecturers have decreased. Today, I got one, but for the most part he was too tired, too frustrated, or realized I've heard it all before.

Something's up with Jack

No one is appreciative anymore. I'm fully aware that with every sport pass time, hecklers will come out of the woodwork and place in their two cents. Like Super told me in the truck when we were picking up the barricades, "Opinions are like assholes: Everyone's got one and they stink." Hecklers, by the way, are the in-the-stadium Parking Lecturers (which I should've named them Parking Philosophers, but that's giving them way too much credit).

After I finished my shift at the parking, Super told me to stay behind so I can do gate work - this is when the parking lot Nazi becomes the Beer Bouncer (it's more like a reverse bouncer: Rather than keeping people out, I cannot let those with beer in the hand out of the stadium). Of course, they can't keep me on the clock and not do anything, so before the game is even close to ending, they have me on guard. I've already been Beer Bouncer once this week, but Super figure I could do it again, just for kicks. I later found out from Bossman that I'm being paid a flat rate - which means, all that over time I just put in doesn't mean jack shit because I'm going to get paid the same. However, that means if I clock in and then clock out an hour later, I'll be paid the same rate. It's a win/lose situation, if you think about it, but at least I still get paid even on days when I work two hours.

During my time on guard - I learned after work that I was supposed to make sure that kids don't get on top of the box(?) where the baseball players are - a foul ball soared over the fence and right over the light post (while it was soaring, I swore it was going to be one of those Hollywood moments when the ball smashes into the lights, sending a flurry of sparks down below). Either way, I moved out of the way only to notice a little tyke running passed me. Luckily for him (and for me, if you think about it), the ball smashed into the bar that was directly behind us.

During this period of time, I also noticed the highly annoying and very drunk hecklers who were shouting out into the field, demanding the players to do this and that: "Hit the ball!" "What's wrong with you? The ball hit him!" "Get him off the field." And this was coming from the same table. What really upset me was when the batter (of the offending team) smashed the ball right into the stomach (it was more like the kidneys) of the pitcher. Even from where I stood, I could tell that hurt. The drunk hecklers, on the other hand, started to call him a cry baby because, you know, they obviously could take a baseball to the gut.

So like I said, no one is appreciative. People love the fact that the baseball team is back and throw their money down to see them, but they're still in some sense demanding more. Baseball, unlike a movie, isn't something that is planned - it's all by chance, a 50/50 deal. And not only are they unappreciative toward the players, but those who actually put the game together - the staff who are only getting paid a flat rate.

You're welcome, you jerks.