at the stadium

Submitted by digitaldaddy on Tue, 10/08/2019 - 18:45
A stadium.

I don't care about any of this, but the person next to me won't stop cheering. It'd be rude not to at least pretend to care, so I do. I am at the stadium. This is a sporting event. My job is to be the cash register, because there are some things that humans are still better at than machines, and that is being human. I fake-smile. I count the change. I make sure that they only have two alcoholic beverages, until the match is past the halfway point -- then they get cut off. There is an order to all of this.

The cheering, the swiping of cards, the handing of large bills, the jingling and jangling. There's a strange flow to it. After the loud cheering, a crowd appears. Each is served in order and they go off to their place in the stadium. Some try to socialize and I smile awkwardly. After all, there are other folks waiting behind them, other folks who are also part of the glorious captive audience, who also have stomachs which have been led to this booth by their legs and eyeballs. Making them wait any longer than they have to is rather droll. "I can help the next customer!" I shout, in my most nasal, most annoying, most disruptive voice possible. The people in front of me who lingered just a bit too long are treated to it in high volume. They slink away and wait to the side for their order. The next customers approach, ready for my help.

I don't make much money for this and it's pretty annoying, but my co-workers are not as quick as I am. So I try to move as quickly as possible. It's a flow at the stadium. It's the flow of the stadium. I just let it go through me for a few hours, and then the game ends, we clean up our stations and we head home.

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