Lord, beer me strength

This past Saturday the husband and I worked the Spring Brew and Wine Fest here in micro-brew friendly Portland, Oregon. This was my fourth year working it (so to speak), and apparently that's the only qualification to be tapped for a supervisory position, so I gots me introduced in the orientation, a different colored shirt and an inflated sense of self-importance.

Working at the brewfest is mostly just pouring a couple ounces of beer into a plastic mug and small talk. Supervising at the brewfest is basically spent covering for people who need a break or running around trying to find one of the two guys whose job it was to replace empty kegs (2 guys for 50 breweries in a 60,000 sq foot convention hall? Not. So. Easy.). The floor had been sectioned into 5 zones, each with a cluster of booths.

I have to say it was fun. The part I most enjoy is the pouring, talking to people about beer and whatnot. The good thing about supervising is that you can pour in more than one booth so, you know, there's variety. But you don't get to pour the whole time, and when you're not looking for the keg guys, there really isn't too much to do. It was interesting to see the way different people handled the supervisory "responsibilities".

There were four guys and me. I must have walked around my little island of booths 50 times. I got my people water and rags and ice. I made sure they got a lot of breaks. If I noticed any particular booth was busy, I'd jump in and help pour. Maybe it's the customer service rep in me - I wasn't just going to stand in a corner and wait for people to ask for help. Of the other four, three of the guys would pop by on occasion, bringing ice or towels unasked. They were good guys.

But then there was this one guy.

This guy showed up alone, which should have been warning sign number one. Then, as we were standing up in front of the group having been introduced as supervisors, he mimed what the person in charge was talking about (The leader: "Samples are one token and you should pour up to this line". This is what he does: He holds up 1 finger, then mimes pouring something into a glass. Then he draws a line in the air and points to the mug the leader is holding. Yeah, I know.)

I don't remember his name, but we all remember he was wearing a hat. At least ten times that night, I'd go up to someone in my group and they'd be all

"That guy in the hat just told me there wasn't any more beer.*"

"That guy in the hat said I was pouring too much."

"That guy in the hat is creeping me out."

OK, I said that last one, but it still counts. I don't what the hell he was supposed to be doing. I'm sure he had his own place he needed to be supervising, but he chose to skulk around MY quadrant.

About every 20 minutes he'd sidle up to tell me what I should be doing. That guy needs help. This booth needs ice.

What I should have been doing was kicking him in his presumptuous balls.

* No more beer?!? There were two people who had access to the room with the kegs, and guy with the hat was not one of them. They have a word for people who make shit up like that. It's called fucktard.