Concessions-R-Us

Well, actually, it SHOULD say "Concessions-R-Me". Because I was the ONLY ONE working there last night. Grr.

Here's Why: Our Little League here in Nowheresville, KY is run by the most inept, incompetent, uncaring morons that I have ever seen. One of the by-products of this is that they say they "can't afford" to pay someone to man the concession stand during games, (to which I said "then where did all of my money go? Because it wasn't to the coaches or field staff, who are all volunteers") so they require parents to volunteer to man it instead. You are required to write them a check for $50 (in addition to all the other registration fees, which are also sky-high) when you sign your kid up, and if you complete your time in purgatory at the concession stand, they supposedly tear it up and don't cash it at the end of the season. If you don't serve your time, they cash it. They figure, and rightly so, that most people don't want to waste $50, so they'll do their time. However, I don't see how this $ is helping MY kids, since these checks aren't cashed until AFTER the season is over. So if you don't work, you've just subsidized next year's league.

So I signed up and dutifully showed up last evening to fulfill my first required shift (you have to do two) and found a locked concession stand. Another woman, who was supposed to distribute shirts (that were also inside the stand) to another team showed up about ten minutes after I did and wanted to know why it wasn't open. I told her I didn't have a key or any way to contact anyone who did. So, well-connected as she was, she called the league director, who just happened to be in the next town (20 min away) at ANOTHER field with his family. She finally managed to get ahold of some parks and rec guy who showed up 30 min later with a key (you know, 30 min AFTER the games had already begun and people were circling me like sharks wanting to know why the stand wasn't open.)

While we were waiting, I noticed I was the only one who had apparently shown up to work. Which would not have been such a big deal if I had known ANYTHING at all about where the food and drinks were, how much to charge, how to work the ancient cash register, what to prepare the food with, how to shut everything down and close and lock up, etc. I conveyed this apprehension to the other woman waiting with me, and she said she would show me where everything was and how to run it before she left.

Apparently this meant she would get the hot dogs ready and take off, because that's what she did. Since I was swamped with hillbilly rednecks wanting snacks and drinks for the first 45 minutes, all I could basically do was throw their money in the direction of the cash register and hand out food in return. I actually told people we were out of sunflower seeds and peanuts because I couldn't find them. (As it turned out, they were in a bucket on the floor. You know, because that's where food belongs: on the floor.) After the initial rush died down, I sorted out the money into the register and hunted down the rest of the items for sale. Things were going relatively spiffy until two teeneage umpires came in and held up their time cards and said "Where do we put these?" Uh, well, um, how about where you usually put them?" Their response? "We don't know where they are supposed to go." I decided to skip the rest of the conversation about how they've been doing this job for over a month now and SERIOUSLY, have they never turned in a time card?, while they stared at me blankly, so I just took the cards and told them I'd take care of it. Ten minutes later, a severely overweight man comes in wanting to know where the first aid supplies were. (My thought: we have first aid supplies? What do I look like, a paramedic?) I finally found a file cabinet labeled "ice packs" so I handed him one and said "good luck."

When I decided to close up shop for the night, I discovered there was no way to wash out the hot dog pan except for hot water, so I turned it up full blast and poured the hottest water possible into it over and over, hoping to at least kill whatever germs might be in it by sheer heat alone, since there was no scrubbing item or soap in sight, except the hand soap by one of the sinks. I put up all the food, cleaned up the area in general, and turned off the hot plate. I closed out the register, put everything in the cash bag, wrote a note telling the manager which three items they were nearly out of, and stuck the two umpires' time cards on top. I locked the window and door behind me, shut it, then realized I hadn't remembered to check the ice cream chest to make sure it was closed. Nice. So if all the ice cream treats are melted when I go back tonight for my second (and last) shift, I will basically be the most hated person in town. However, in my defense, it would serve the managers right for being such *unprintable words* as to not bother showing up to open it, then leaving me there by my clueless self.

Oh, and I discovered the schedule sitting on a counter near the register. Guess who was supposed to show up and work the stand with me last night? That's right, the leaders (husband and wife) of my sons' Cub Scout pack. Wow. Way to display those leadership and responsibility qualities there. I'm so impressed.

There are two different ladies schedule to work with me tonight. I have a feeling I'll be by myself again, except this time, at least, I have the phone number of the man with the key.