Stadium Views


This stoop sir, is not a chair! by gpiv
May 2, 2010, 1:38 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Forty seven bottles of beer in the fridge.

Hope the eleven of you that read yesterdays blog found it interesting.  I know the Burden didn’t because he doesn’t have a computer.  I know the Parking Nazi did because he called threatening to sue me for slander.  Seems he denies most alcohol use and all stripper use.

Now I don’t remember much from law school but I do remember that in a slander suit the truth is an absolute defense.  I think I’m going to sleep all right tonight knowing that.

So later in the morning I turn on the tunes outside and begin to set up the outside operations in hopes that the employees are not too hung over.  This involves a certain measure of trust in humanity, if one of the non family employees has not arrived to watch the inside.  I therefore leave either the inside uncovered to set up outside or leave the stuff outside unwatched except for a occassional glance from the Parking Nazi or the Scalpers.

People aren’t going to steal thirts or sports memorabalia, are they?

The genesis of outside operations was about six or seven years ago when the guys from Denver took over the place.  They paid me X amount of money to sell t-shirts at the place, both inside and out.  I and the family handled the inside operations for them and they began setting up on t he north side of the building.  John Brennan was the owner and Brian and Zinger were the ramrods of the operation.

I never had a more pleasurable experience with a t-shirt provider.  Those guys were really fun to work with and fun to party with.  And they spawned the outside operations.  The next year in hopes that they would come back we put up the awning on the north side of the building.

They didn’t comer back.

What a great development for the tans of Stacey, Erik and Toni.  they usually run the outside operations and are surrounded by ten to twenty of their friends and constant beer.  Every once in a awhile a customer forces their way through the friends and the scalpers and buys something, if the cussing of the scalpers hasn’t forced them away.

They complain, but I think they like it.  I personally like outside operations.  It’s great for people watching and giving away beer.  Imagine when a guy is standing there in the 90 degree heat, getting pissed cause his wife and kids are shopping and he is not a shopper and all of a sudden I offer him a beer.

Most, if they haven’t been there before they do a double take.  The first reaction after that is either to say , “What did you say?”, or in the alternative to say, “How much?”.  I then am able to hit everyone’s price point with the reply of free. 

Quenching thirst is a high calling.  My problem with so many of the men I give a beer to outside is we now have undergone one of the greatest bonding experiences of maledom.  We have shared the water of life.  The elixir which makes sports more than just competition, it makes it a communal activity.

And now, wanting to bond, they take t he next step and they sit on my stoop, thereby blocking the ability to attract any more customers.  I love all my friends from LSU, Clemson,Texas, Mississippi State and all the other College World Series teams, but damn it, don’t sit on my stoop.  Let’s have a quick bonding experience, but if you want to keep talking, step to the side.  I’ll move over to you and continue the conversation, at least if I’m interested.

So if they are really bugging me with their stoop poaching I urge them to go inside and soak up the little air conditioning that I have and to get themselves something to eat.  It usually works but every once in a while it backfires.  They get a plate of food and come back outside and sit on the stoop with it.  Shit, I have to g ive them another beer and hope they are a fast eater.

I digress.  The worst after effect of cancer for me is the lack of saliva.  It is the incarnation of the line from the Joni Mitchell song, “You don’t know what you got til it’s gone.”  I used to think salivary glands were a curse when I’d  yawn in front of someone and one of my salivary glands would shoot this steam out about two or three feet.  Oh for those days again.

The digression was due to the fast eater thing.  It takes me forty-five minutes and three glasses of water to force down a hamburger.   I also can’t get through an hour in court with out a great deal of water.  I have to continually brush my teeth and did you know how much saliva has to do with cleaning the particles from between your teeth.

My life tip.  Don’t get cancer.

Enough of that.  This is not a health column.  Back to the slow eaters sitting on the stoop.  The real bad ones are the people who take their beers and their food and stand over the shirts on the outside tables.  The possible loss of inventory due to my own kindness would just be ironic and pitiful.

With all this on my mind, the guy didn’t buy anything, he’s into me for two beers, he may ruin my inventory,  something good happens.

A hot chick walks by.

And all is good with outside operations.

Who needs saliva.

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1 Comment so far
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I will see you at the CWS as usual.My 11th trip this year.Can’t believe that in 3 years I will have seen 2 of my loves demolished.Alex Box in Baton Rouge and Rosenblatt.Progress sucks.Cold beer please and do you have this size in a different size?

Comment by Robert King




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