A good amount of the conversations I’ve had with my fellow vendors over the last few years have concerned line numbers. We swap line number stories, discuss strategy for getting a good number, and complain about pulling a bad number — banishing you to a day of vending purgatory.Good stuff. Highly recommended.
“Shit man, I’m gonna get malts in the upper deck.”
Yes, the upper deck — the bastion of bad tipping, steep, peanut-covered stairs, summer camp children trying to pay with nickels and dimes and old people too full from their blue plate special at the Golden Nugget on Broadway (the kind of diner where the waitresses are chain-smoking, bouffant-haired and hollowly call you “sweetie”).
No, you don’t want to vend in the upper deck. You want to vend in the 100-level.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
A fellow by the name of Cory Bennett has written an extremely enjoyable account of a day in the life of a Wrigley Field hot dog vendor in today's Cornell Daily Sun: