Life on the Road

As I mentioned before, for better or for worse, the company I work for does all the state finals merchandising for our state and I attend nearly all of our customization events as well as various others.

The questions customers ask never cease to blow my mind. Everything from asking what flavor of Dip n Dots we have (Hello? If we sold Dip n Dots I would eat them all, so either way we have no flavors.) to if we're selling tickets or programs to where the nurse's station is to one of my ultimate favorites, "Is this like where we can you know like um get our names put on the back of our shirts?"

This past weekend I had another run-in with a cheerleader and her mom. Now don't get me wrong, I have several friends—and even a roommate—who have been cheerleaders. I'm well aware that it's not a requirement to be an ultimate ditz to be a cheerleader.

(As far as whether or not it's an actual sport, that's another debate for another day, let me just say I really don't consider anything that airs on ESPN2 vs ESPN an actual sport.)

Let's be honest though, there is a reason the cheerleader stereotype exists and this girl—and her mother—certainly did nothing to help dispel any claims. I had had little to no traffic for about an hour so I was playing an online game to make the time go a little faster. I noticed them hovering by the list of rosters and various options they could add to the back of their shirts and wisely decided to keep playing my game as they were not going to make it my way anytime soon. Sure enough they'd make one step towards me and then three steps back to take another look at the rosters and stretch those hardworking brains just a little further.

I was in no hurry for them to come over knowing that the only t-shirt sizes I had left were medium and extra large. Every female between the ages of 9 and 27—don't mess with me, these are scientific facts—thinks she is a small. It doesn't matter if our smalls are sold out and it would obviously not fit her without fat rolls squishing out at all angles. She's a small, and that's all there is to it. Cheerleaders are the worst about this. And don't tell me they're all small, I've been to enough of these events to guarantee you they are not all small. Makes me wonder if it's still considered a trophy to date a cheerleader at some of these schools. But I digress.

When they finally made it my way I was soon to realize all my apprehensions about this duo were not unfounded. On top of being out of nearly all sizes at this point in the weekend, we were also out of rosters for this particular school. It was their first time at state finals and even though we went back and reprinted the rosters for this school after the first night we still ran out before their second game. Once I finally convinced them that no, we did not even have just one roster left and that yes, I was sure, I received some huffs and exasperated sighs and stomping feet.

"Well this just ruins everything. It's for her player."

"I apologize ma'am, but we can have the roster sent to your house."

"That won't work. It's for my player. I was going to give it to him at the party tonight."

(As a side note, I about died listening to them refer to him as "her player" or "my player" as if that made him a celebrity and I was supposed to magically have everything they needed because of it.)

The mother informs me her daughter is going to have to think about what she wants to do now and they step back. At which point I realize the daughter is holding a gift bag and tissue paper for the shirt they wanted to purchase. Now tell me, if you were that prepared to have gift wrap ready, why would you wait until the last minute on the second day to purchase the shirt?

Eventually, after much protest to me, each other, and literally anyone else who would listen, they purchase their transfers, spoke to my friend Stephanie, who was working with me, about how great their school is, and leave. Ah state finals, you never cease to entertain me.

My co-worker Andy and I were going to make a Top 10 list for the most unintelligent things we've been asked at these events, but we forgot.

In other news, I saw Michael Jordan there. Twice.

His son's team won.