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Behind the Fan Stands: Confessions of a concessions worker
The popcorn machine buzzes and I rush to dump the orange, salty contents of the popper into the big, glass warmer. The popcorn spills over into the warmer in puffy mountains of processed, cheese flavored goodness. Directly after I dump it an order is called back at me.
"Can I have three popcorns, a Gatorade, and a hotdog?" The girl at the register is already beginning to ring up the next customer. I have barely filled this order and another one is being shouted out to me. Gatorade, three popcorns, candy- no, hotdog. Now there is a Diet Pepsi and a another hotdog. I can't keep all the orders straight in my head and so I go into robot mode. Robot mode is when I completely let go of thinking and allow my senses to keep me filling orders on time.
The pace is only this fast during football games with instate teams at Concessions. The only way we know who is winning or losing is by paying attention to the announcer or by watching the fans' faces when they come to get their hotdogs and popcorn, assembled by yours- truly.
We care as much about football as the next person but we are at every game, every weekend, even on our breaks sometimes. And yet, we never get to cheer our team or even see them score a touch- down. We are the most dedicated of fans. The more our team wins, the more our team's fans will pour into our stands and the more work we have. Then our boss is a happy man and lets us eat those delicious cookies we always have left over after we close.
Concessions is underestimated, ignored, and just taken for granted. We are as dedicated as the next person. And yet all we are known for is the processed junk food we sell to crabby or crazy sports fans. We're incredibly talented at multi-tasking and we keep our space immaculately clean. And so, even if you do not ever consider eating hotdogs or candy or nachos with cheese made out of who-knows-what, remember us, and at least come and get a regular coffee, made by yours-truly.
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