The Event Staff Lament

To those of you who were waiting for the post titled “The Event From Hell,” it looks like I lied. ‘Cause there’s nothing like a week and a half to lesson the outrage and annoyance of being confronted with several folks who seem to be forgetting in the good sense God gave them.

And, if I had stuck to that title, I would have been leaving out another lovely event, namely, Women’s Conference.

The joy and wonder of these events has left me with a new installment of Things I Have Been Wanting to Say.

“I’m surprised at how well-behaved your children are, considering the example you’re giving them.”

“Forgive me. I’m a lowly lay-worker. Notice the lack of a power-boosting radio.”

“Yeah, well, some people are jerks.”

“I can only be in so many places at once.”

“You know, ma’am, going from pity-inducing tears to indignant, snotty rage in the blink of an eye makes you seem rather insincere.”

“It’s amazing how you can spend all day being uplifted and edified and then act rude and condescending to everyone.”

“Well, maybe you do know the rules better than I do. After all, I only work here.”

“Could you break the rules any more blatantly?”

“These kids are great, ‘cause they’re at the age where they don’t yet think they know everything and will therefore follow directions. The parents are another story. I say next year, we broadcast from the Marriot, and the parents can watch in designated stake centers around the area.”

There were a few things I actually did say to people though.

“Well, I can’t have dinner until you leave.” (Replying to “It’s hard to eat dinner standing up.”)

“No matter how long you’ve been waiting, these seats are reserved.” (Replying to a rather indignant “I’ve been waiting for two hours!”)

“I get the feeling I’m trying to stop the sun from rising.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t really go kick people out of seats.”

And, my favorite, though no one else seemed to enjoy it.

“Hope of America? Flippin’ Hope of America? Oh, I’ll say these kids are the Hope of America. Looking at most of their parents, all we can do is hope.”

Later, in the staff room, we shared stories. One woman, rated on a scale from one to ten, one being mild-mannered and ten being Nasty McNasty-Pants, was given a twenty-five. A woman went into labor during the Women’s Conference concert, and we jokingly blamed it on the staff member who had insisted she obey the rules. Several people, after only Hope of America, almost wanted to quit; after Women’s Conference, they were pretty sure. I muttered that we should get a $20 bonus for Hope America. Oh, what lovely and wonderful events.