Friday, April 17, 2015
spring is in the air!!!!
Baseball! I don't love the game, shh, that doesn't mean I am not a good American...I don't hate it though. If I lived the rest of my life without ever seeing a game, I wouldn't even notice. But if I sit there and watch, I can get into it. But working at the stadium today was an adventure. The warm weather and one dollar sodas and hot dogs, and two dollar beer...brought the crowds.
The crowds are nice people. Most of them are happy about spring time. Happy about being at the ball park. Happy to get a hot dog for a buck. But SOME people are just miserable. Today, in fact, I had Mr. Miserable himself in my line to get beer. (The beer taps are right on the counters next to the cash registers, so we have to pour beer for customers ourselves.) Mr. M was a big-ish guy with a big-ish mouth. He was loudly accusing a small-ish timid looking guy of cutting in line. Now, this line cutter didn't look like he had a clue. I think he just ordered out of turn accidentally because he was a stuttering sort of kid, a little hunched over, glasses...not to judge or anything, but he didn't get the Most Outgoing Award in high school. Anyway. Mr M. was really going after this guy about budging, getting loud about it, too. I did not like it, not one little bit. So I told Mr. M to cool it, that it wasn't a big deal, that the other guy didn't mean to do it. He wasn't calming down, and the alleged line cutter looked miserable, like he was fighting tears...his eyes were opened wide, like he was scared, and it looked like tears were going to start rolling down his cheeks. It made me seriously mad at Mr. M. So I blurted out, "I am his Mom, leave him alone!"
I can't stop marveling at myself. What in the capital H possessed me to claim to be this guy's mother? Let's analyze....
1. I have strong maternal instincts, and when I saw this bullying, I pictured it happening to one of my sons.
2. Bullying is despicable, and cannot be tolerated.
3. I tried reasoning, but it didn't work.
4. Perhaps I made it a teeny bit more awkward for the shy guy, he took his change and thanked me, but seemed really embarrassed.
5. Seriously though? The other people in line were just going to stand there and let that big Mr. Miserable be pushy and mean?
6. I still can't believe I said I was his mom.
7. My hands were shaking so badly, I do not like confrontations. Not at all.
8. Even thinking about it now upsets me.
Anyway. It was busy and crowded...we worked for almost seven hours without a break. Then the game was over and we had to clean up and...ugh, the bathrooms were locked. eeks. Anyway, we survived, and it was rather fun. I like people, mostly, and life is stranger than fiction. I saw an extremely patient lady with four special needs adults, she was so good to them it just made me smile. I saw daddies buying hot dogs for kids, and ladies who were so thankful and happy. I saw a middle aged man jump right out of line to come pay the bill for three young soldiers. The two dollar beer is a pain in the rear, because sometimes the taps get foamy, and it takes forever to get a good cup of beer...and some of the jokes and comments from the beer customers just aren't that funny, but most of them are decent...just happy to be there. One guy was getting two beers at a time, the limit, getting back in line and drinking the beers in line, then getting two more. I was teasing him about it, and he said, "I'm an alcoholic, what can I say?! Funny not funny.
All in a day's work, I guess.
Kim came for a visit with her two youngest kids this evening, we were both tired out from our stadium work. I made popcorn, and we crashed with our feet up...I felt bad when she had to get up and drive home...and tomorrow...is another baseball game...and Kim and I are both working, again....I hope my feet stop hurting by then:)