8trackdisco wrote:Will be pulling for the Bulldogs, but have no issues with LSU. The LSU ladies in the stands are top notch.. TOP NOTCH!
No doubt.
Back in ‘05 after Katrina delivered a knockout punch to New Orleans the Saints played their home games in Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge. Since I worked the SO detail for the LSU home games, by proxy I was automatically a member of the Saints’ home game detail.
Never one to chose standing over sitting or walking over riding I managed to wiggle into the parking lot crew because they had a golf cart painted in LSU colors assigned to them. Anyway one Sunday afternoon I’m tooting around the parking lots trying look like I actually had a purpose other than sitting on my ass riding around doing absolutely nothing productive I spot three lovely Saintsations walking towards the stadium from an outlying parking lot.
Instantly I understood my mission. I was bound by chivalry to taxi them so as to insure their safety. There were two on the seat next to me. A seat which was barely wide enough for two much less three. An unfortunate result was need for us squish our bodies together to ensure that no one accidentally fell from the carriage. To this day I wonder if my double knit 100% polyester uniform scratched her minimally covered torso and her pantyhose covered leg.
Of course there was no room on the seat for the 3rd damsel so she was forced to sit facing us on the, for lack of a better word, dash. The horrible alternative would require her to wait alone for me to come back for her after delivering her co-dancers to safety. This of course was an unacceptable risk so she bravely took position opposite and facing us from her precarious perch. Due to need for me to keep these fragile young ladies a safe distance from harm’s way, occasionally I was required to take evasive action from any risk, real or imagined. As such it was increasingly necessary for me to reach out and gently stabilizer her with my right arm and/or hand.
As we approached the stadium we saw more and more deputies who obviously saw us, especially the ocean sized grin on my face. To say I was the deputy hero of the day is an understatement. To say I was envied, there is no doubt. As a result, I had to arrive progressively early as the season continued to ensure I was not displaced from my much coveted post. I can’t remember the exact number of fragile dolls I protected from the evils of this world. But, before the season was half over I had a consistent path that I patrolled.
At some point during the season the SO Captian of the detail enquired how I came to task myself with this monumental responsibility. I simply answered that as a deputy sheriff it was my oath bound duty to protect and serve. He looked me dead in my eyes and told my I so full of chit that he could smell from two towns over. Then after a brief pause he shook my hand and we shared a heartfelt hug. While doing so he whispered into my ear that unless I wanted to be assigned a more austere post I better make sure to get him a phone number or two. Fortunately, for the remainder of the season I was able to ensure him I continued diligently seeking the information of which I was tasked with gathering, but to no avail.
That was the first and only season I worked that detail. The next year a higher ranking deputy muscled his way in as the detail supervisor. At the first preseason meeting we were assigned our posts for the upcoming year. I was reassigned to the upper West Deck from which without binoculars it is impossible to read numbers on the back of the player’s jerseys. I requested a different post. He said I had two choices. I could have the post he had assigned me or no post at all. I was sad that I wasn’t able to ride that $600 per game detail gravy train anymore. But, somehow I survived.