Bored

I'm counting the days before I go back to work. The only unlucky thing about it is that I'm looking at a Thirsty Thursday game, which means hell on earth.

In other news, I'm going to read up on baseball. If my nonexistent readers have any suggestions, please comment them. Any books that deals with the sport will do nicely, but please no biographies of any sort.

Hipsters are the new douche bags

"Let's just jump the fucking fence," the tiny hipster girl says as the group of three stroll by me. The fence she's talking about is the back exit, which is still locked even though I'm supposed to be guarding it as Beer Bouncer.

I'm surprised that they even go to the baseball games; don't they normally just lounge around pretending not to have money and not to care about anything else? And it's not because it's Thirsty Thursday, because they're way too young to even pass off as anything but 14.

I'm not going to pretend to know what a hipster's into, because when I was a kid - which is beginning to feel like a long time ago - a hipster was an old man who pretended he was still hip and young. Now, after looking up the definition, it's a rich kid who likes to dress poor and all his/her money comes from mommy and daddy. Man, how things change.

And they're not the only ones who attend, there are others who pass me by in the parking lot, pretending not to have the two-dollar toll, yet drive around in a fancy Jag or some other imported car that they probably got the same day as they did their license. It's not taken care of, however, to give it that "authentic" look of being riches to rags.

But their clothes give them away. They're boots and Converse might be from ropa usada (a Valley term for used clothes stores), but their garments are from American Apparel. They reek of fashion faux pas (I'm one to speak), but pretend they're also individualistic - oh the irony! Sometimes, I feel like I should overcharge them when the come into the parking lot - them with their fancy automobiles with that layer of grim. I won't, but I do think about it.

Tolls, Horses & Other Anxieties

Once again, Estella had to come for me because the car is still at City Limits (a repair shop that is taking a sweet ass time fixing the problem). When arriving, Javi wasn't there and Estella had said that Fred wasn't going to be able to make it because of his work at the hospital. It looked like it was going to be me and maybe a girl. Impossible because it was Thirsty Thursday and those days are usually busy on all three lots.

Both Estella and I set up and I'm placed in lot 2 for the time being. My mother relieves me of my position to send me to lot 3, which upsets me because my mother doesn't know how to take tolls (it's not as easy as it seems and beginners usually struggle).

In lot 3, I take in 25 paying patrons and a few who slipped my radar. Because I've only been working at the stadium for two years (I started in 2007, wasn't hired in 2008 because the Coyotes were bastards and this is my second year), I don't know much about the history. So as we're picking up the horses, I ask Super how long it has been since parking 3 was only a dollar. His response was about five or so years. I grimace because every day there's one jerk who tells me otherwise.

As we're putting away the horses, Super asks me why it is I don't drive. I told him I was working on it, but it's mostly due to my anxiety problem. He sympathized, stating his oldest daughter has the same problem. It makes me feel good that I'm not alone in the world.

After putting the horses away, I head back to the bank to pick up my bags before going over to the covered area to "watch the game and relax" for a bit. What I wind up doing, however, was sit there and read Idoru by William Gibson. However, before leaving the bank, I sit there to take a breather and suck up some cool air. It was then that one of the bankers acknowledged who I am. Shocked that I'm the brother of a former RA's bartender, she states that I am nothing like him. The other banker recognizes the name and is also in awe. I like keeping my familial relations closeted. I never ever, under any circumstance, let others know whose little brother I am. I find life simpler that way.

At the end of the night, one of the ladies who works for the team was crying. Apparently, White Wings' coach is a douche bag who gets his kicks off cussing out young ladies. I'm sure his anger was fueled by the fact the teams almost started a brawl, sending one of our players out of the game. I still don't think that's reason to cuss out someone who was only doing her job. She spent her own money to provide them food, which he demanded her to take out of the box - "Get that shit out of here!" He also refused to reimburse her. It was no way to treat her and way out of line. I think I might heckle should I go in early.

Thirsty Thursday & Friday Night Firework Show

Today is going to be hell. I normally don't many patrons out in lot 3, but today is going to be hell. Every drunk will be plowing though, expecting me to have change for a twenty, a fifty, a hundred. I'll only have change for the first one, by the way, but after two cars, I'm pretty much out of change. According to the list, however, I'm supposed to be in lot 1.

Unlike lot 2, only a small amount of traffic sweeps through lot 1. It's still more than 3, but nevertheless, I won't be on my toes as much. The only back breaking about being in lot 1 is the sun. Lots 2 and 3 have an advantage: shade from the sun. 2 has palm trees lining it and 3 has the gym across the street that throws its shadow over the lot. 1 has nothing until the sun sets.

Dollar beer night is the worse, but tomorrow we're going to have complaints galore. Friday Night Firework Show starts after the game. Bossman has already expressed (not to us, but to those above us) that there will be no free parking. Meaning, even though we're going to be done at about 8:30, we're going to continue to stand at our positions to collect money. This causes the problem of an angry mob of patrons wailing down on innocent Parking Lot Nazis. It's something I'm not looking forward to.

It also shows the bad logic possessed by those in charge: Just because we have hold of half the parking lot, doesn't mean there will be no free parking. Lot 3 is University property which we have control over during home games and events. Problem is, lot 3 is only half of a much larger parking lot. We cannot charge anyone who parks on the other side. Even though he says he doesn't want anyone to park for free, doesn't mean it's not going to happen.

Here's to the night!