Buck the Eyes and kick 'em out!

I should have known better than to work a game against Columbus of all teams. I forgot Adam Foote is on that team, so seeing him play again, along with Sergei was okay. When the stadium started booing, I just said get over it, already and started to cheer him on. A small act, but whatever. Read my Sergei blurb from yesterday and you'll understand my feelings on this subject. I saw my first regular season shootout. I saw the Wings wear white jerseys on home ice. On my break, I saw Ella Maltby, who is the cutest damn kid I've seen in a long time. Before the game, I saw Drapes, Jason, Mowers and Ozzie(?), and Sergei at the other end. We are not allowed to even so much as acknowledge the players as they walk in anymore. Apparently all hell broke loose in the two games I missed and the players went to the locker room bitchin up a storm, pissed off security, and now in turn, we have a sign warning us that "they are watching you" and if you are caught "you will be repremanded." So I 'accidently' saw those guys walk in. Honestly, I would hate to be ignored and if I walk by and one of them happens to be passing me, I'm still smiling and saying hello. They are just normal people for Pete's sake. Ugh. If they don't like it, they can have my badge and I will gladly shove it up their ass on the way out. That brings me to game time.........................

On what would go down in the books as my third worst hockey game I was yelled at, nearly molested, and dreading the fact that if I really am retiring after this season, it's going to be another early exit from the playoffs so these remaining regular season games are all I have left to enjoy. Did I enjoy last night's game? Not by a long shot. I spent the second intermission talking to Tom, my favorite season ticket holder and one that actually acknowledges my presence as "the usher" for that section. I had another part-time season guy come in at the end too, he also likes me better than any of my subs - who haven't a clue what they are doing in my corner. Hence my decision to work every single playoff game, so help me God. I have often talked about how much I enjoy it if Tom's dad shows up, but after last night, he also makes my list. I had my wheelchair guy come, and last night, he thanked me. For everything. It was a touching moment in a completely choatic shoot-out scene. But let's start at the beginning.

Sometime during the first period I had these four people come back up to me saying that they were sent to the wrong section. They had 126, row three. Sections 125-127, Rows eight and below are connected (more seats = more money for greedy Mr. I). I said I would wait for commercial and take them down, because then I wouldn't be in the way when I kicked people out and the people sitting wouldn't get all pissy because their view was being blocked. They whole-heartedly agreed. It was their first time there and so they were happy to comply with my orders and understood my sentiment. With this, I thought it was going to be a decent game. Then the double whistle came, the light turned on the penalty box, and down we went. Didn't have kick anyone out, just had to move a couple kids down. I come back up and noticed someone had majorly spilled their beer. I looked at the two guys standing at the end of standing room, and asked which one it was that did it (joking mind you, obviously this was my first mistake). The kid's friend started to then yell at me, saying how someone cut the corner and knocked into his friend causing his beer to spill. I said well maybe he had to have more control over his holding onto his beer. He said, that's a 10 dollar beer and you're just going to say that? I said, how is this my fault? what do you want me to do? and what are you getting out of yelling at me? He yapped a few more minutes trying to unnerve me - fine, take out your frustation on me, I don't care - but then after I defend myself with a few coy remarks, he said, "man, you are like the rudest person ever." I said am I like that or am I that? He's said, what is your problem? I said "you're being an asshole to me, and you need to change your tone of voice right now." He said oh yeah, I'm being an asshole. This egged on the two guys standing next to him to also chime in choice words to me. What the fuck ever. There were five minutes left in the first period by that point. Had there been more, I would have fucking kicked him out. No way you fucking talk to me like that in my section. No fucking way. Drunk boy's friend, whose beer it was that actually fell, later apologized to me. I said that I appreciated the thought, but the damage had been done and I didn't want to hear it. Then he tried to make small talk and asked me a hundred questions about working there. He asked if I liked it. When I replied no, he asked why, to which I could say, because I have to deal with jerks like your friend all night long. That gave him the message and he promptly shut the hell up. To my great relief and satisfaction, they left when the buzzer sounded and I moved four late-comers to that spot. And thank God that I was on break when the 2nd started. I passed those two jerks in the concourse on my way down to my break, and I knew they would be fuming mad when the spot on the wall had been filled already. HA! So although not immediate, I did kick those guys out of my section, because they were no where on my walls for the rest of the game. After the game, the woman who gave me a break said how downright horrid the people in my section were, that they were the worst she had seen all night, etc, etc. I apologized profusely, saying how after three years I have learned how to deal with them but how absolutely sorry I feel for the break ladies who have to deal with that. This is not the first time that this bad report has followed my break, and somehow I feel like a teacher who just read a bad sub report. This will make me more empathetic if I ever return to subbing.

Second period is usually my favorite because its shortened by my break. I came back to a scoring fury. Good times, makes the crowd in a happy mood. Makes me wish that there weren't so many stops, but honestly, who can think of that when you get to hear the Irish Jig? Really? Shanny is not my favorite player by any means of the imagination, but I love it when he scores. I don't think I had any problems of note until the shoot-out. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed the entire game because of the beer spill assholes. I told people they had to wait because it the polite thing to do. I said that yes, I knew all the players, that yes, I followed the Wings, and that no, I did not absolutely love my job there. At one point (I think when I was clearing out my section) I corrected a guy who said I get to stand there and watch the game for free by saying no, no, I get paid to watch the games. He said that has to be great. I said no, it's not...not when you are a pretty girl and have to put up with drunk men all night. He said oh yeah, I can see that. I had him in my section before; he's a cool dude and completely understood. I saw familiar faces and they were happy to see me too. I saw my beer guys and they stopped and chatted for a minute. Joel is my favorite. I can't remember the other guy's name, but he always makes it point to tell me "last call." Last night I said, hey, I'll take one...Joel who was standing next to me said he'd take two. HA! That is really funny. The beer guys have to put up with the same kind of thing, but at least they get tipped. (No bitterness in that comment whatsoever ;) I haven't gotten a tip in ages, the greedy little fuckers). I guess that brings us to the OT/shoot-out.

There was a man standing behind my wheelchair guy who I had to go up and ask him to move because the people in standing room could not see through him. That is all I said. Apparently he heard an invitation to come stand next to me and slowly push my last nerves to the brink of destruction. He said you know you could have said and you should have just come up to me and told me to move my fat ass. I told him that I take a slightly different approach when I tell people to move. I think that pulled the plug. Then he started telling me how he owns five health clubs, he wants to give me a free membership, he wants to take care of me, he wants to give me an office. I stopped, I said you want to give me a full-time job? He said yeah, I'd give you at least 50,000. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. OMG! The guy in standing room next to me was laughing, I couldn't believe it. Then body builder went to the concourse. I looked at this guy next to me, I said in the four years I've worked here, and all that I've seen, I can honestly say that has never happened before. Then he asked what would be involved with the 50,000. HAHAH! I said I'm sure some catch that I wouldn't be willing to give. Then body builder comes back, talks to the wheelchair guy. It is the shoot-out by this time. I went and stood behind the wheelchair, because hey, I wanted to see too! That is when he told me how sweet I was and thanked me -pause- for everything. I was shocked. Anyway, body builder (I call him this because his arms were flippin huge, must be a side effect from owning five gyms, which I heard about more than once). The first three shooters didn't score. He was cheering. He wanted me to give him five. I did, along with the others around me. He came up and gave me a hug and told me I was "fucking gorgeous" and beautiful and all this other crap. Ugh. I said thank you and felt disgusting. I couldn't even muster up my typical "I know I am" response. Horrific flashbacks of my rookie year came back - I was in a different section every night, all upper bowl, every night bait for old, drunk men to hit on me...I often left feeling disgusted with humanity, wondering if this was all it was ever going to amount too. He asked if he a one in a million chance with me, I said no. I couldn't even think of anything else to say. By that point I was drained. Normally I would have said some jackass thing to him, but I couldn't even think of anything; I was out of comebacks. I desperately wanted the game to be over. Then Homer scored. THANK YOU SWEDISH GODS!!!!!!!

I will go on record saying that the Wings will not go far in the playoffs. The fucking goaltending is a crock of shit. They do not have what it takes. This is a really bad time of year for Legace to fuck up. He gave up a three goal lead, then the winning goal with 34 seconds left. What the shit is that? That is NOT Stanley Cup goaltending. That's what that is.

Ending with a happy note: When I filled up my gas tank earlier in the day, the total was $33.33. I came home and predicted Draper to score and have a helper. I was there when he got the assist. And I was so freakin happy when he scored the goal. WOOT! Thank you Drapes. He made me smile at a time I thought it was impossible to do so.

Bring on the Oilers. At least I'll enjoy the game because I like the opposition.