This article is a collaborative effort by Alyssa Hockensmith and Sabrina Wilkerson.
Here’s the thing about working events: People kind of suck. Maybe not all of them, but a healthy number of them. Most people are generally nice, but it’s those who are not that we tend to remember. Take it from us.
In the customer service industry, Sabrina and I had the pleasure of working a high-profile country concert on Saturday that attracted over 17,000 people and took place at a farm.
Here are our stories:
Alyssa:
I’ve worked the door for countless events with a variety of patrons from all walks of life, but I will never forget the events that occurred during this country concert. Country concerts are typically labeled as “the worst” in terms of working because they produce a certain kind of rowdy patron that’s difficult to maintain.
This one was no different.
Via: blogspot.com
People were tailgating in the parking lot since the wee hours of the morning, so by the time they got to me at 5 o’clock, they were plastered out of their minds. For the most part, the drunken people standing in line awaiting entry were entertaining. Who doesn’t love a drunk 50-year-old woman talking about how security got “all up in her hoo-ha?” Then, there were the down-home country-folk that called me “baby,” “sweetheart,” “darlin’” and other infantile pet names. Annoying, yes, but harmless nonetheless.
But then there were the others.
For what seemed like a good hour, the others came in by the truck-load. They were the ones who get a little too friendly when they’re drunk. Touching my arm, rubbing my shoulder, creepily hugging me as I let them into the concert are all things you should not do to a person working an event. Personal bubbles are real, people!
Via: wordpress.com
All that stuff was child’s play compared to the two 30-somethings who decided that grabbing my ass was the only way to express their gratitude for their tickets scanning on the first try. That’s a fair trade, right? Nope. Sorry, dudes. I don’t care how country girls are used to getting affection from you. Where I’m from, if you grab a girl’s ass, you better be sure to buy her dinner first.
It took everything in my power not to smack them.
It seems that sexual harassment knows no gender lines, especially at this country concert. Not 10 minutes after having been violated by two dudes, a woman came up to me and grabbed my face. “Oh Lord, you’re cute! Can I kiss you?” she said, moving in for what she thought was a gentle kiss on the mouth, but what I saw as a total defilement of all of my senses. Thankfully, her pre-teen daughter pulled her off of me before I had to take the next step of politely pushing her away, saying “Mom, please just stop.”
As I scanned the young girl’s ticket, she said, “I am so sorry. Her being completely wasted isn’t an excuse, but it explains her… friendly behavior.” She walked into the show, holding up her drunken mother as she went. That girl’s going to make a fine adult.
While I consider myself a pretty seasoned employee of country concerts, nothing could have prepared me for the events to come. Alcohol + countryfolk + concert = a volatile cocktail that I never want to sample again.
Via: freerepublic.com
Sabrina:
Although sexual harassment is completely violating, it’s a more “loving” (in a twisted sense) way of being greeted by a crowd of drunkees.
My experience was on the other end of the spectrum…
My smart supervisor, so full of great ideas, decided to have me, a 5′ 2 female, work VIP security, front and center to the performer. It just may be the most vicious place to hold back a crowd.
And, surprisingly, no one found me to be intimidating.
I got called “bitch,” “idiot” and my absolute favorite “you cunt.” I couldn’t blame them. I was killing their vibe by not letting them dance in the aisles and grind up on their cowboys.
However shockingly, the men were not the problem.
Via: someecards.com
Every time I asked a girl, no matter her age, to move and get back to her seat, the claws would come out. A pretty, tanned girl in a sundress is the epitome of the devil at a country concert. A group of women in their 30s mocked me. The 20-year-olds threatened to fight me. And the teenagers flicked me off.
I have never felt more loved in my life.
That was mild stuff compared to what would come.
“Hi, can you guys please keep moving? You can’t stand in the middle like this.”
One out of the three girls fired back “Okay.” Ten minutes later the group of girls was still there. “Hi, you guys need to go.”
The same girl snaps her fingers at me “Chill the fuck out. We will leave.” I can’t control my anger so I yell, “leave, now!” The girl who has more attitude than Michelle from “Full House” whips around and grabs my hair close to the scalp. She yanks my head down.
Oh hell nah.
It took every muscle in my body to keep the “hood” inside me. I grabbed a cop and he could not care less about what happened.
Several occurrences like that took place throughout the night.
Via: wordpress.com
I got scratched and grabbed. Two girl fights broke out. I have never seen such a hostile or chaotic environment in my life.
The performer announced that this is the biggest crowd he thinks he’s ever played for, and then everything made sense.
I patted myself on the back for surviving a security shift that was meant for a 300-pound, 6″ 2′ dude.
Although this was never on my bucket list, I’ll add it just because this was a fucking nightmare and the closest thing to a war that I’ll ever experience. I survived a country concert, and I’m proud.
Midnight Cookies was ordered as part of my recovery, and now I’ll live to fight another day.
Featured photo courtesy of: ohiochatter.com
