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Today was a FUN day in the booth. By 'fun', I mean... aw hell, you know what I mean. It sucked. It sucked worse than taking your Mom to your senior prom.
Y'see, today was career day. Which meant the parkade was booked up for all the various vendors, company representatives, and other hiring-types coming to pick through our crop of students and get their hopes up, only to shatter their dreams and break their spirits by actually hiring them.
Naturally, this sucked for my daily parkers, but I had been diligent and warned them. I in fact saw no familiar faces today, which means my message got through. Awesome! So at the very least they were prepared for the suck. But I suspect most of them simply didn't come to class, as parking was a nightmare.
It sucked for me, because they booked about 120 stalls of my 73 available. No, there weren't several different parties involved. The parking office booked all those stalls, and then the day of the event realized we were fscked.
THANKFULLY, not everyone booked actually showed, so we crammed them in somehow. And for the most part they were non sucky about it. However, there was one notable exeception:
Now, for this to make sense, there's a nugget of info you need about the parkade: It's split into 3 sections. A Section, which is staff parking only, B section, which is student and pay parking, and a 'Visitor' Section, which is deceptively labelled, and is in fact the parking reserve. Spots in Visitor are booked through the parking office, and/or used for staff or student passholders from other lots who have had their assigned stalls taken. It's right behind the booth in easy sight, and I guard it fiercely, because when all hell breaks loose, it's all I've got.
Now, the career fair people were supposed to park in B Section. That's listed on the passes they were sent, quite clearly along with the directions on how to get there.
Me: Your Friendly Neighborhood Parking Man!
EMT: Entitled Manager-Type
I was helping a student, who had been unable to find parking in her own lot. I had one spot for sure right next to the booth that I could slip her into, so I was just writing a pass out for her, when a big black pickup inches by her (The lane is just BARELY wide enough for two) drives past her and the booth, around behind and into my last remaining visitor spot.
Errr, NO. That's not how this works. Time to educate. I grab my jacket and radio, grumbling the whole time. It's minus 46 Celcius outside, and I'm not supposed to leave the booth in the first place, but it's the only way to keep the morons out of my lot.
I walk over to the truck, and tap on the window with my knuckle. I'm a little peeved, and although I try and keep my expression neutral, I think a little of the 'Not Happy Pol' was shining through.
Me: Excuse me, do you have a Visitor Pass?
EMT: (Looks at me like I'm some sort of fungal disease) Yes of course I do! (Pulls out his map, with the attached B Section pass)
Me: (I locate where it says 'Section B' on the pass) Sir, this pass is for B section. You need to go up to levels 8-14, and park in there.
EMT: (Looks like he's going to protest, but I'm obviously in no mood for it, and I'm a security guard, not as easy to bully as a customer service wage slave). Alright, fine! How was I supposed to know? It doesn't say anywhere on there.
Me: (I know for a FACT it says 'Stop at the booth for pass verification' AND 'Park in Section B' in the e-mail that accompanied that pass, and it says 'Section B' on the pass itself. READING helps) It says 'Section B' right on the bottom of the pass sir. (I turn and walk away, because it's frickin' cold, and I wanna go back to my nice warm booth)
Well, EMT sits there. And looks at the pass. Then looks at me in the booth. Then looks at the booth. And puzzles. And puzzles, and puzzles until his puzzler is sore. In all, he sits there for about ten minutes, looking very confused and... I suspect a little hurt. I don't think this was someone who was used to being told 'no' a lot.
Finally, he drives off. So, I figure that's the end of it.
Nope!
On my break, I'm out of the booth, walking back to the office, when who do I bump into, but WMT. He glares down at me (This guy was TALL) and says:
EMT: Excuse me, you were the security guard from the booth?
Me: Yes, I am. What can I do for you?
EMT: I think you need to back it off a little. I thought you were quite rude. I'm a manager, and I'm only here for today for the career fair (Said with an air that he was doing the college a favour)
Me: Well, that may be, but you still have to stop at the parkade booth when you enter the parkade.
EMT: ... what's your name?
He proceeds to get my full name, and to stalk off to file a complaint about me, I suspect. He doesn't have time to wait two minutes for me to finish dealing with the person ahead of him in line at the parkade, but he has all the time in the world to track down the parking office staff (Or whoever he eventually whines to) to complain about me hurting his feelings. Nice. I can see how he got to be a manager. Priorities!
Anyway, as a local radio personality likes to say, until then I'll just shut my big yap.
Y'see, today was career day. Which meant the parkade was booked up for all the various vendors, company representatives, and other hiring-types coming to pick through our crop of students and get their hopes up, only to shatter their dreams and break their spirits by actually hiring them.
Naturally, this sucked for my daily parkers, but I had been diligent and warned them. I in fact saw no familiar faces today, which means my message got through. Awesome! So at the very least they were prepared for the suck. But I suspect most of them simply didn't come to class, as parking was a nightmare.
It sucked for me, because they booked about 120 stalls of my 73 available. No, there weren't several different parties involved. The parking office booked all those stalls, and then the day of the event realized we were fscked.
THANKFULLY, not everyone booked actually showed, so we crammed them in somehow. And for the most part they were non sucky about it. However, there was one notable exeception:
Now, for this to make sense, there's a nugget of info you need about the parkade: It's split into 3 sections. A Section, which is staff parking only, B section, which is student and pay parking, and a 'Visitor' Section, which is deceptively labelled, and is in fact the parking reserve. Spots in Visitor are booked through the parking office, and/or used for staff or student passholders from other lots who have had their assigned stalls taken. It's right behind the booth in easy sight, and I guard it fiercely, because when all hell breaks loose, it's all I've got.
Now, the career fair people were supposed to park in B Section. That's listed on the passes they were sent, quite clearly along with the directions on how to get there.
Me: Your Friendly Neighborhood Parking Man!
EMT: Entitled Manager-Type
I was helping a student, who had been unable to find parking in her own lot. I had one spot for sure right next to the booth that I could slip her into, so I was just writing a pass out for her, when a big black pickup inches by her (The lane is just BARELY wide enough for two) drives past her and the booth, around behind and into my last remaining visitor spot.
Errr, NO. That's not how this works. Time to educate. I grab my jacket and radio, grumbling the whole time. It's minus 46 Celcius outside, and I'm not supposed to leave the booth in the first place, but it's the only way to keep the morons out of my lot.
I walk over to the truck, and tap on the window with my knuckle. I'm a little peeved, and although I try and keep my expression neutral, I think a little of the 'Not Happy Pol' was shining through.
Me: Excuse me, do you have a Visitor Pass?
EMT: (Looks at me like I'm some sort of fungal disease) Yes of course I do! (Pulls out his map, with the attached B Section pass)
Me: (I locate where it says 'Section B' on the pass) Sir, this pass is for B section. You need to go up to levels 8-14, and park in there.
EMT: (Looks like he's going to protest, but I'm obviously in no mood for it, and I'm a security guard, not as easy to bully as a customer service wage slave). Alright, fine! How was I supposed to know? It doesn't say anywhere on there.
Me: (I know for a FACT it says 'Stop at the booth for pass verification' AND 'Park in Section B' in the e-mail that accompanied that pass, and it says 'Section B' on the pass itself. READING helps) It says 'Section B' right on the bottom of the pass sir. (I turn and walk away, because it's frickin' cold, and I wanna go back to my nice warm booth)
Well, EMT sits there. And looks at the pass. Then looks at me in the booth. Then looks at the booth. And puzzles. And puzzles, and puzzles until his puzzler is sore. In all, he sits there for about ten minutes, looking very confused and... I suspect a little hurt. I don't think this was someone who was used to being told 'no' a lot.
Finally, he drives off. So, I figure that's the end of it.
Nope!
On my break, I'm out of the booth, walking back to the office, when who do I bump into, but WMT. He glares down at me (This guy was TALL) and says:
EMT: Excuse me, you were the security guard from the booth?
Me: Yes, I am. What can I do for you?
EMT: I think you need to back it off a little. I thought you were quite rude. I'm a manager, and I'm only here for today for the career fair (Said with an air that he was doing the college a favour)
Me: Well, that may be, but you still have to stop at the parkade booth when you enter the parkade.
EMT: ... what's your name?
He proceeds to get my full name, and to stalk off to file a complaint about me, I suspect. He doesn't have time to wait two minutes for me to finish dealing with the person ahead of him in line at the parkade, but he has all the time in the world to track down the parking office staff (Or whoever he eventually whines to) to complain about me hurting his feelings. Nice. I can see how he got to be a manager. Priorities!
Anyway, as a local radio personality likes to say, until then I'll just shut my big yap.
I AM the evil bastard!
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