Sending an SOS
Every summer, I can count on two things: a humidity-induced tantrum and a shitshow concert at the ballpark. Both are annual events that I take pride in. The more the humidity, the bigger the tantrum; the worse the shitshow, the better the shitshow fan interactions. Two years ago, I set the record for the tantrum. I was still living at school and it was two in the morning and it was still literally 95 degrees in my room and I freaked out, and I continued to freak out every single morning. The first thing I would do when I would wake up is swear. Eyes open, say fuck. It got so bad that I set a tantrum allowance. I allowed myself one tantrum every day, and two on any day that was over 90 degrees or 80% humidity. It was quite a summer, and like I said, record-setting for my humidity-induced tantrum. One could argue that it was world's longest tantrum, clocking in at forty-seven consecutive days.
As for the concert, last year was record-breaking for shitshows. As one security gentleman put it, you could pretty much throw a dart and eject the person it landed on from the park for a legitimate reason. Everyone was drunk, high, and twelve years old. It was phenomenal. I had a twenty-minute converesation with a woman about an ATM being out of order. ("It's broken?" "Yes." "It's broken?" "It's broken." "It's broken.") Pretty awful... and pretty fantastic.
Well, this year, I had the annual tantrum waiting in the car before heading into work for the concert. It was pouring rain - I mean, freaking pouring rain - for about a half hour, and in between buckets, I had stepped outside thinking, "Well, at least this will cool things down and get rid of the humidity" and instead, it was like getting slapped in the face by a steambath. Seriously, the city was a sauna. It heated everything up, and it was totally disgusting, and I had to work and run around in THIS, and THAT was too much for me. So I had the tantrum. I just needed the shitshow concert and I'd be done with the annual summer traditions.
I had already been told that this crowd was supposed to be tamer. Every year, it seems, they try to choose a band with a different purpose: Springsteen was the first foray into concerts and was crazily out of control because it was an entirely new thing (someone told me this weekend that it was during this concert that they turned out all of the lights - every single light, even security/emergency lights - and everyone almost died walking down the uneven grandstand stairs. Since then, emergency lights remain on. More on that later.) Buffet was a laid-back but drunken melee (yes, melee); the Rolling Stones ruined the field; Dave Matthews was low maintenance and mellow but reached the all-time high for... well... highness. Sting and the Police were supposed to be a tame crowd.
And they were. Apparently, some memo went out to all pregnant women in New England that they should come see the Police, because out of every four people, one of them was guaranteed to be pregnant. I'm serious. Everywhere you looked, pregnant women. This upset a lot of the beer vendors, obviously. Number of pregnant women spotted drinking: zero. Last year, at the Dave concert, we saw only four pregnant women. Two had beers, one asked where she could go smoke, and one was smokin a bone. Not pretty.
Nobody was so drunk or high that you could taunt them or say whatever you wanted to them; nobody was so belligerent that yelling in their face seemed appropriate. They weren't partying. In fact, it's commonly known around the park that the staff works harder during a concert than any game because they're trying to score the most ridiculous story or the most smuggled-in alcohol or weed. Everyone knows this. There was barely a box of confiscated items. That's pretty bad, Police fans.
Now, look, I'm not advocating that people go out and break the law or that staff people act horribly to the people at their venue. But, what I am advocating is for a little fun and amusement. You might think that the music itself would be the fun and amusement; after all, we get to work at this event and it's billed to be a great concert. Well, the Stones were cool. And it was fun to watch the Buffet fans doing their fins to the left/fins to the right moves, but these fans were just kinda singing along. Nothing noteworthy. (During the Buffet concert, every geriatric in the building was going nuts dancing everywhere. It was awesome.)
Anyway, all of this would have been disappointing in itself, but still okay. You have to accept that sometimes, people just aren't partyers, and, contrary to my personal belief and preference, people are not here for my selfish entertainment. But here's the thing: these people were paying an astronomical amount of money for these tickets (don't ask me why), and they wanted everyone around them to know that and feel obligated to sprinkle them with gold dust as they entered. Everyone was entitled, and everyone was an asshole.
Normally, you try to make some sort of conversation with people as they come in. "How are you doing, sir?" as you rip the ticket, and such. "Not good," "Ugh. Fucking weather." "I had to walk around to find this fucking gate." "You guys don't know shit about running a concert." "I hate the Red Sox." "Can I smoke in here?" "Why the fuck not?" Yup. That's a random sampling of the crap that got thrown around. And if you responded at all in a joking manner, or if you tried to be upbeat about it - "Well, sorry about the walk, but at least you're here now! And they haven't started yet!" you got mocked. That's right. MOCKED. The rich are nasty people sometimes.
What gets me is that I generally try to help people out, I really do, and a lot of times, people are just fucks in return. Like, I looked over and saw a group of people clustered around this giant map of the seating area. All of them were doing the "I think this might be it but I have no clue" routine, so I went over and started asking, "Anybody need directions?" Now, look, I didn't have to do that. I had no obligation to walk over to that area and be proactive in helping out. I really didn't. And I'm not saying that or stressing that because I'm some great worker, but just to make the point that I was being helpful. So I ask that and one jerk goes, mocking, "Does anybody need directions? We all do, can't you tell?"
"Yes, sir, I can. That's why I came over here."
"I have no fucking clue where I'm supposed to be."
"Well, let me take a look at your ticket and I'll point you in the right direction."
"Can't you just walk me there?"
"Umm, well, you did just tell me that all of these people" - I gesture towards the half-moon of people to my right - "need directions, so that wouldn't really work."
"This place is crap."
"Okay."
Like, that was the interaction. He walked away without even taking any directions, and I hope it took him twenty more minutes to find his stupid seat.
When I told one guy he couldn't smoke, he was furious.
"What are you talking about? We have a pavilion!"
"Umm, there's a pavilion level, but that's not considered outside the park."
"This is ridiculous!"
"Maybe pretend you're at a movie. You can't smoke in a movie theater."
"We're not at a movie."
"I know, that was just... nevermind. You can't smoke though." I stopped the analogy. I wasn't pushing it, because he wasn't getting it. With stupid stuff like the movie or plane analogy for smokers, either people smile and get that you're trying to be friendly and nice about it, or they don't. These fans didn't. (One other non-fan of the plane/movie analogy? Howie Day. We were having another concert at the park and he was playing in it. He was smoking in the park, right in front of all these fans I'd told not to smoke right there. So I asked him if he'd mind going right outside the gate - literally five feet from where he was - so that at least he wouldn't be smoking right where I'd told other people they couldn't smoke. He said no, that he wanted to stay in the park. So I told him he couldn't smoke right there, and he gave me some shit about the policy, saying it was dumb. So I said, "Well, what would you do if you were on a plane?" And he just huffed away. Then someone told me that a few months earlier, Howie'd been arrested coming off a flight into Boston because he'd given the stewardesses a hard time or been unruly or something like that. Whoops. I bet Howie likes the Police, too.)
Anyway, people generally just stomped off, angry about the fact that I wasn't going to genuflect every time I spoke to them, or because of some other inane reason. Here's my question: when the Rolling Stones were in town, people were ridiculous, yes, but they weren't rude. They were paying more than these Sting fans, and yet, they weren't showy about it. I was thinking a lot about this, and I think it's because the Stones' fans all had "old" money, so they didn't feel the need to flaunt it. All these Police fans were twerps in their thirties who had to let everyone know that they had enough cash to blow a grand on crappy lawn seats to see a band that they used to have to work a month to save up the money to buy tickets for. It's new money. They're new money assholes who stomp off when they don't get what they want. They suck.
A few positives/highlights from the concerts though:
1. The security company that the park hires to help out was pretty good. In the past, they are not very nice to the in-house staff (us). For some reason, when people come in to help with events, they think that they suddenly become God and they make the rules about everything and everyone. I guess last year they had a few unfortunate run-ins, and this year, a director here told them that they don't have to be such pricks to the staff. And magically, they listened. For example, in years' past, they've really hassled me when I'm just trying to get across the field. By myself. I don't bring an entourage with me, ever, and they were like, "No. Even though you have an ID and a field access pass, because I am god, I say no." Seriously. This year, I guess my field pass fell off my ID, and when I realized that at the field, I thought I'd legitimately have a tough time. So I was prepared to be told no, and to be okay with that, and to have to go get another field pass. But instead, the woman just saw my staff ID and let me go wherever. She was cool, and everyone else was pretty good too. That was nice. The Life is Good company should call and get some tips from these people on being humane.
2. My favorite thing about working there is being able to help people out. I really like when things happen like I'm just in the right place at the right time and I happen to see that someone could use some extra niceness, and I can help. That's probably the cheesiest/lamest thing I've written, ever, but it's true. Anyway, I was in the elevator, because I had to make sure the back elevator door opened, etc. and the girl in the elevator was new to that, so I happened to be there when this guy came in and started sort of talking to her about this problem he was having. I couldn't really hear what he was saying, but she was just saying, "Sorry, I can't do anything about that" and just shrugging. We'll have to work on her, but that's another story. So, I asked him what was wrong, and he was kinda hesitant but then he explained the problem to me. He'd gone through the system - asked the right people, etc - and gotten the answer no. Well, I thought his request was reasonable, and it was something that we could do. You would have thought I had saved the freaking world for this guy. He kept offering me a tip - like $50 - and I kept saying no. I ended up not taking any of the money, which is the only slight downside to this story. But the interaction reminded me why I like my job, so that's good.
And finally, a story that pretty much sums up how the concerts went:
Last night, I was hanging out at a gate when a dad and his son came over. They wanted to know if they could upgrade their seats. They were willing to pay, but they couldn't sit in those seats because Sting was this big - I mean very very very very little on that stage - and that wasn't going to be acceptable. The father was so hyper about everything that I wanted to get him a paper bag. Instead, I walked him to the ticket area, where he was told that they were sold out, so they couldn't upgrade his seats. He wanted to buy new tickets. He wanted to see a map. He wanted to see Sting, not squint and think he saw Sting. He wanted water. He wanted a pony. I mean, he kept talking and moving and not listening to a thing anyone was trying to tell him. Finally, one of the ticket people told him that people would probably be selling tickets on the street, so he could try scalping. You know it's bad when people are advocating scalping.
Well, the guy came over and told me about fifty times in five seconds that he was going to go out to the street to buy some tickets. He left his son, probably about 16, at the gate. He kept saying he needed a map. So I got him a map and I told him, as he's rushing around and acting like a hyena, that he should try to get field access seats, but that he shouldn't get seats in section C because those are far back on the field and probably not much better than the ones he currently had.
As he's running around on the street - and I should mention that the opening act has about thirty minutes before going on (Sting's son - good to see nepotism is alive and well) - I started talking to his son. I found out he sort of likes the Police, but that he asked his dad for tickets, and here they are, etc. All of a sudden, and I really have no clue how this fit into the conversation, he just goes, "Yeah, my dad's loaded."
"Yeah, my dad's loaded."
Pretty much summed up the concerts. People flaunting their money, acting totally out of control. When the loaded dad came back, he had new seats. In section C. Of course. $375 each. He spent over $700 in five minutes, and his son wanted everyone to know that he was able to, because he was loaded. Classic Police fan.
And that was my weekend.
Oh, and I got stuck in a muggy elevator.
As for the concert, last year was record-breaking for shitshows. As one security gentleman put it, you could pretty much throw a dart and eject the person it landed on from the park for a legitimate reason. Everyone was drunk, high, and twelve years old. It was phenomenal. I had a twenty-minute converesation with a woman about an ATM being out of order. ("It's broken?" "Yes." "It's broken?" "It's broken." "It's broken.") Pretty awful... and pretty fantastic.
Well, this year, I had the annual tantrum waiting in the car before heading into work for the concert. It was pouring rain - I mean, freaking pouring rain - for about a half hour, and in between buckets, I had stepped outside thinking, "Well, at least this will cool things down and get rid of the humidity" and instead, it was like getting slapped in the face by a steambath. Seriously, the city was a sauna. It heated everything up, and it was totally disgusting, and I had to work and run around in THIS, and THAT was too much for me. So I had the tantrum. I just needed the shitshow concert and I'd be done with the annual summer traditions.
I had already been told that this crowd was supposed to be tamer. Every year, it seems, they try to choose a band with a different purpose: Springsteen was the first foray into concerts and was crazily out of control because it was an entirely new thing (someone told me this weekend that it was during this concert that they turned out all of the lights - every single light, even security/emergency lights - and everyone almost died walking down the uneven grandstand stairs. Since then, emergency lights remain on. More on that later.) Buffet was a laid-back but drunken melee (yes, melee); the Rolling Stones ruined the field; Dave Matthews was low maintenance and mellow but reached the all-time high for... well... highness. Sting and the Police were supposed to be a tame crowd.
And they were. Apparently, some memo went out to all pregnant women in New England that they should come see the Police, because out of every four people, one of them was guaranteed to be pregnant. I'm serious. Everywhere you looked, pregnant women. This upset a lot of the beer vendors, obviously. Number of pregnant women spotted drinking: zero. Last year, at the Dave concert, we saw only four pregnant women. Two had beers, one asked where she could go smoke, and one was smokin a bone. Not pretty.
Nobody was so drunk or high that you could taunt them or say whatever you wanted to them; nobody was so belligerent that yelling in their face seemed appropriate. They weren't partying. In fact, it's commonly known around the park that the staff works harder during a concert than any game because they're trying to score the most ridiculous story or the most smuggled-in alcohol or weed. Everyone knows this. There was barely a box of confiscated items. That's pretty bad, Police fans.
Now, look, I'm not advocating that people go out and break the law or that staff people act horribly to the people at their venue. But, what I am advocating is for a little fun and amusement. You might think that the music itself would be the fun and amusement; after all, we get to work at this event and it's billed to be a great concert. Well, the Stones were cool. And it was fun to watch the Buffet fans doing their fins to the left/fins to the right moves, but these fans were just kinda singing along. Nothing noteworthy. (During the Buffet concert, every geriatric in the building was going nuts dancing everywhere. It was awesome.)
Anyway, all of this would have been disappointing in itself, but still okay. You have to accept that sometimes, people just aren't partyers, and, contrary to my personal belief and preference, people are not here for my selfish entertainment. But here's the thing: these people were paying an astronomical amount of money for these tickets (don't ask me why), and they wanted everyone around them to know that and feel obligated to sprinkle them with gold dust as they entered. Everyone was entitled, and everyone was an asshole.
Normally, you try to make some sort of conversation with people as they come in. "How are you doing, sir?" as you rip the ticket, and such. "Not good," "Ugh. Fucking weather." "I had to walk around to find this fucking gate." "You guys don't know shit about running a concert." "I hate the Red Sox." "Can I smoke in here?" "Why the fuck not?" Yup. That's a random sampling of the crap that got thrown around. And if you responded at all in a joking manner, or if you tried to be upbeat about it - "Well, sorry about the walk, but at least you're here now! And they haven't started yet!" you got mocked. That's right. MOCKED. The rich are nasty people sometimes.
What gets me is that I generally try to help people out, I really do, and a lot of times, people are just fucks in return. Like, I looked over and saw a group of people clustered around this giant map of the seating area. All of them were doing the "I think this might be it but I have no clue" routine, so I went over and started asking, "Anybody need directions?" Now, look, I didn't have to do that. I had no obligation to walk over to that area and be proactive in helping out. I really didn't. And I'm not saying that or stressing that because I'm some great worker, but just to make the point that I was being helpful. So I ask that and one jerk goes, mocking, "Does anybody need directions? We all do, can't you tell?"
"Yes, sir, I can. That's why I came over here."
"I have no fucking clue where I'm supposed to be."
"Well, let me take a look at your ticket and I'll point you in the right direction."
"Can't you just walk me there?"
"Umm, well, you did just tell me that all of these people" - I gesture towards the half-moon of people to my right - "need directions, so that wouldn't really work."
"This place is crap."
"Okay."
Like, that was the interaction. He walked away without even taking any directions, and I hope it took him twenty more minutes to find his stupid seat.
When I told one guy he couldn't smoke, he was furious.
"What are you talking about? We have a pavilion!"
"Umm, there's a pavilion level, but that's not considered outside the park."
"This is ridiculous!"
"Maybe pretend you're at a movie. You can't smoke in a movie theater."
"We're not at a movie."
"I know, that was just... nevermind. You can't smoke though." I stopped the analogy. I wasn't pushing it, because he wasn't getting it. With stupid stuff like the movie or plane analogy for smokers, either people smile and get that you're trying to be friendly and nice about it, or they don't. These fans didn't. (One other non-fan of the plane/movie analogy? Howie Day. We were having another concert at the park and he was playing in it. He was smoking in the park, right in front of all these fans I'd told not to smoke right there. So I asked him if he'd mind going right outside the gate - literally five feet from where he was - so that at least he wouldn't be smoking right where I'd told other people they couldn't smoke. He said no, that he wanted to stay in the park. So I told him he couldn't smoke right there, and he gave me some shit about the policy, saying it was dumb. So I said, "Well, what would you do if you were on a plane?" And he just huffed away. Then someone told me that a few months earlier, Howie'd been arrested coming off a flight into Boston because he'd given the stewardesses a hard time or been unruly or something like that. Whoops. I bet Howie likes the Police, too.)
Anyway, people generally just stomped off, angry about the fact that I wasn't going to genuflect every time I spoke to them, or because of some other inane reason. Here's my question: when the Rolling Stones were in town, people were ridiculous, yes, but they weren't rude. They were paying more than these Sting fans, and yet, they weren't showy about it. I was thinking a lot about this, and I think it's because the Stones' fans all had "old" money, so they didn't feel the need to flaunt it. All these Police fans were twerps in their thirties who had to let everyone know that they had enough cash to blow a grand on crappy lawn seats to see a band that they used to have to work a month to save up the money to buy tickets for. It's new money. They're new money assholes who stomp off when they don't get what they want. They suck.
A few positives/highlights from the concerts though:
1. The security company that the park hires to help out was pretty good. In the past, they are not very nice to the in-house staff (us). For some reason, when people come in to help with events, they think that they suddenly become God and they make the rules about everything and everyone. I guess last year they had a few unfortunate run-ins, and this year, a director here told them that they don't have to be such pricks to the staff. And magically, they listened. For example, in years' past, they've really hassled me when I'm just trying to get across the field. By myself. I don't bring an entourage with me, ever, and they were like, "No. Even though you have an ID and a field access pass, because I am god, I say no." Seriously. This year, I guess my field pass fell off my ID, and when I realized that at the field, I thought I'd legitimately have a tough time. So I was prepared to be told no, and to be okay with that, and to have to go get another field pass. But instead, the woman just saw my staff ID and let me go wherever. She was cool, and everyone else was pretty good too. That was nice. The Life is Good company should call and get some tips from these people on being humane.
2. My favorite thing about working there is being able to help people out. I really like when things happen like I'm just in the right place at the right time and I happen to see that someone could use some extra niceness, and I can help. That's probably the cheesiest/lamest thing I've written, ever, but it's true. Anyway, I was in the elevator, because I had to make sure the back elevator door opened, etc. and the girl in the elevator was new to that, so I happened to be there when this guy came in and started sort of talking to her about this problem he was having. I couldn't really hear what he was saying, but she was just saying, "Sorry, I can't do anything about that" and just shrugging. We'll have to work on her, but that's another story. So, I asked him what was wrong, and he was kinda hesitant but then he explained the problem to me. He'd gone through the system - asked the right people, etc - and gotten the answer no. Well, I thought his request was reasonable, and it was something that we could do. You would have thought I had saved the freaking world for this guy. He kept offering me a tip - like $50 - and I kept saying no. I ended up not taking any of the money, which is the only slight downside to this story. But the interaction reminded me why I like my job, so that's good.
And finally, a story that pretty much sums up how the concerts went:
Last night, I was hanging out at a gate when a dad and his son came over. They wanted to know if they could upgrade their seats. They were willing to pay, but they couldn't sit in those seats because Sting was this big - I mean very very very very little on that stage - and that wasn't going to be acceptable. The father was so hyper about everything that I wanted to get him a paper bag. Instead, I walked him to the ticket area, where he was told that they were sold out, so they couldn't upgrade his seats. He wanted to buy new tickets. He wanted to see a map. He wanted to see Sting, not squint and think he saw Sting. He wanted water. He wanted a pony. I mean, he kept talking and moving and not listening to a thing anyone was trying to tell him. Finally, one of the ticket people told him that people would probably be selling tickets on the street, so he could try scalping. You know it's bad when people are advocating scalping.
Well, the guy came over and told me about fifty times in five seconds that he was going to go out to the street to buy some tickets. He left his son, probably about 16, at the gate. He kept saying he needed a map. So I got him a map and I told him, as he's rushing around and acting like a hyena, that he should try to get field access seats, but that he shouldn't get seats in section C because those are far back on the field and probably not much better than the ones he currently had.
As he's running around on the street - and I should mention that the opening act has about thirty minutes before going on (Sting's son - good to see nepotism is alive and well) - I started talking to his son. I found out he sort of likes the Police, but that he asked his dad for tickets, and here they are, etc. All of a sudden, and I really have no clue how this fit into the conversation, he just goes, "Yeah, my dad's loaded."
"Yeah, my dad's loaded."
Pretty much summed up the concerts. People flaunting their money, acting totally out of control. When the loaded dad came back, he had new seats. In section C. Of course. $375 each. He spent over $700 in five minutes, and his son wanted everyone to know that he was able to, because he was loaded. Classic Police fan.
And that was my weekend.
Oh, and I got stuck in a muggy elevator.
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