"Customer safety and customer service, are the two pillars of what we do. You keep people safe and provide them with answers to any questions raised."
She looked around and continued, "you are not permitted to say you don't know. If you don't know direct them to someone who does, or go get the information from the person. Any questions?"
All 18 of us stared back at her. No one said anything.
"You will all be posted to the vomitories on this West Stand. Most people coming to this stadium have never been here before. So they will need directions. Please familiarize yourself with the seating arrangement. This will enable you direct them accordingly." She looked around again.
No one spoke up.
She was the supervisor. Her name was Jane, I think, or maybe Lane, Mane or something like that. I probably need to ask her when she comes around to get our names after we've been assigned our posts.
"As regards the toilets you will notice the symbols are similar. That's because the men wear kilts here. So please note that lads is for men and lassies is for the female toilets." She added, "do ensure you keep the stairwell clear at all times, as well as the vomitory." She smiled. "Why are you all silent?"
A guy that was on the same bus with me from Manchester to Glasgow said, "you didn't mention refreshments."
"You will get toilet breaks, and can refill your bottles from the various refill points around the stadium."
"That's all?"
"If there any other thing to be provided, I will let you know."
He shrugged. "Okay."
She spoke into her radio for a moment and then she said, "follow me so I can assign each of you to a vomitory."
She turned and began to walk away. We all followed her.
We were in Glasgow for the Beyonce concert. The place was already full of people, or more like the beehive was buzzing. They were waiting to gain access into the arena. It was around 2pm and Beyonce probably won't get on stage until 8pm.
The supervisor pointed out a vomitory and I climbed up the stairs and took up a position at the top.
The DJ was already playing, and the songs were on point. My body had a mind of its own as it moved slowly to the music.
It should be a good 8 hour shift. At least, hearing good music while at work should make it fun. And no one said we can't dance as we worked. Or did they? Well, maybe I missed it.
There was a loud cheer as the stage side ticket holders ran to take up space beside the stage, which was in two folds, a square base connected by a long corridor to a round one.
I wonder why pay so much to stand for the entire show. But I guess as much as I love and enjoy good music, I was no die-hard fan of any musician.
Soon after, other ticket holders began to stroll into the stadium stands.
There were a lot of skirts that were so short, the butt cheeks were on full display.
Picture this, many of the ladies with the short skirts had to walk up a flight of steps to get to their seat, (as the rows from where I stood, started from A to ZZ). Hence, all of them had to keep pulling down their skirts to ensure everything was not on full display. However, since it was a music concert and alcohol was allowed in the stands, some of the ladies had their hands occupied with drinks. The skirts freely rode up as they climbed the stairs to their seats.
Back in Nigeria, a good friend of mine use to say, "eye no get zip," meaning, "you're free to look at what you want."
Fortunately, I’m not a man that is intrigued by the backside, I’m a boobs man.
Unfortunately, there were many ladies that came braless to the concert. So it was a struggle to maintain eye contact when I greeted them, or had to direct them to their seats.
Besides, I had to stand facing the people and not the stage.
I prayed silently, "oh Lord, lead me not into temptation, I can find itself."
To be continued.
Signed
Olumide Holloway (King Olulu)
