Monday Memory: Crazy old man

While I was a student at BYU, I worked at the Fine Arts Ticket Office. I held that job from my sophomore year until the summer after I graduated. I loved it. When my sister started at BYU, I was able to hook her up with the same gig. Awesome.

I had many memorable experiences at the ticket office, especially since my boss asked me to be the evening shift supervisor after I had only worked there for one semester. I was terrified! It was a learning and growing experience being in charge of people for the first time: I learned that I really do not enjoy management in any form. It got especially interesting when my boss, Paul, was not around.

I'm not sure if they do this anymore, but when I worked there, we were the Utah County distribution center for tickets to certain events at the Conference Center in downtown Salt Lake. For example, people living in Utah county who wanted tickets to President Hinckley's Birthday Celebration came to the Harris Fine Arts Center on the appointed day and time to get their tickets, which were free and first come, first served. It was chaos, my friends. CHAOS!

People who knew how to read and follow directions and were respectful of their fellow men were good about showing up at the HFAC early, standing in line politely, and gratefully taking home their alloted 4 tickets per family. Some people, on the other hand, just didn't get it. They tried to call in and request us to put tickets on hold, which, of course, is unfair no matter how you spin it. One particular elderly gentleman had made several such phone calls, only to be told each time that we were unable to accomodate his request and that he'd have to show up in person like everybody else. He did show up eventually, but he didn't want to stand in line. He must have spoken to one of my coworkers, because when he came back later that afternoon after all tickets had been disbursed, she recognized him. That's when it got funny.

Like I said, all of the tickets were gone. ALL of them. My coworker was working at the ticket window when she saw the aforementioned gentleman round the corner and start walking towards her. She freaked out because she recognized him from his badgering phone calls and earlier trip to the box office. She didn't know what to do, so she dropped down under the ticket counter and hid there! It was hilarious! He approached the ticket window and requested the tickets he assumed we had put on hold for him. HA HA HA! Of course we had no tickets on hold for him! As I remember it, we kindly explained to him that he was sadly mistaken, that we had no tickets, and there was nothing we could do about it. He kept claiming that someone had told him that we would put tickets on hold for him, at which point another one of my coworkers came up to the window and told him that she remembered we had talked to him and had clearly told him that tickets were only given out in person, first-come, first-served. At this point he reached his whole arm inside the ticket window (which was open) and shook his finger at her, yelling at the top of his lungs (no joke) "ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR YOUNG LADY?"

After recovering from my initial shock, I remember looking down at my crouching coworker (the one hiding under the ticket counter), and telling her to go get Paul. She did. By the time Paul got there though, Mr. Crazy Old Man had stomped away.

Incidentally, by the time my sister got to BYU, the ticket windows had been replaced with security glass, the kind that doesn't open.

Good times.