Day 35 - Monday, it's Sunday's ugly half-brother.

After enjoying a beautiful Sunday afternoon off...time to get back to the grind.

Usually a beer man won't make many sales on Sunday's. Not because of the whole 'religious' aspect of it (being a Sunday means people don't drink? ha!), but because people have to go to work the next day. And no, Christians don't drink...especially on Sunday's...right? I'll let you believe what you want, but I have no shame in tipping back a tall cold one on a Sunday afternoon...but nonetheless, sales are really awful on Sundays...thus the reason why I took the day off!

*******************************

Tonight just felt like a great night for baseball! Much cooler weather and a slight breeze made it near perfect conditions.

Tonight's sales weren't too bad...for me. While talking in the commissary at the end of the night, some of the guys were talking about how bad they had done that night and how Monday night is rough to sell beer. Even with a sold-out crowd in attendance, people just weren't buying much beer. One of the beer man said it best, "Monday, it's Sunday's ugly half-brother."

I personally thought Monday wasn't that bad. I mean, I think I enjoyed it a lot more with the cooler weather. Don't get me wrong, I still sweat like a pregnant nun in church, but it wasn't a nasty sweat.

Stories from tonight:

I was walking down the steps into a section and yelling out my beer call when a guy in the top row was yelling back my beer call to the entire section. I looked back to see some guy with a oversized cowboy hat...only way I could describe it was that he was mocking me. I got back up to the top of the section and he asked me if he got his free beer and commission for helping me make all of those sales in that section. I told him that we were always hiring and if he wanted another beer. His buddies next to him did. They had been smartn' off to me the whole time I was talkn' to them, so I flexed the muscle of the beer man and asked for their ID. The guy with the hat told his buddies he taught me how to yell, but he didn't teach me to check ID's. Come to find out, they were in the military, all having military ID's. That's all that really happened...so I guess that story had a lame ending...

While selling beer in one section, I noticed a bunch of teenage boys sitting up out of their seats and looking down a few rows in front of them. I glanced down to see what could have been drawing these delinquents' attention away from the game. It was a group of girls, probably in their late teens-maybe 20 or 21. I was tempted to go let them know that the guys a few rows behind them needed their attention and then I would simply leave the area...but I had other priorities...like sell beer.

I encountered something odd in the stairwell on my way down to Sports Services' lobby located in the basement. A full team of firemen were in full gear walking down the steps right behind me in the stairwell. I was really thrown off when I noticed about a half dozen cops right behind them. They were carrying long odd shaped metal pieces over their shoulders. Not a single piece of metal was the same. Some of it was wrapped in clothe. I noticed the firetruck with it's lights on outside the stadium as I left. I still dunno what happened.

Not that crazy of a night...but then again it was a Monday...and if Monday is Sunday's ugly half-brother, I'd hate to see Sunday's sister! But then again, Monday wasn't nearly as ugly as the way the Cardinals played tonight. They got spanked by the Giants...10-0.

Totals thus far:
57 Bags of Cracker Jacks
80 Bottles of Water
141 Bags of Peanuts
1940 Bottles of Beer