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  • 2️⃣010: ¡PUIGÑETA! (bonus story) 🎾

2️⃣010: ¡PUIGÑETA! (bonus story) 🎾

victory, sweet, sweet victory 🥇

The first employee shows up to the Miami Marlins Ballpark at 5 AM.

Actually, it could be 4 AM, I don't remember exactly.

Well, that's not actually the first employee. The security guard is there all night. They have to let the first event staff employee into the employee parking garage at 4 AM.

That employee opens the garage and plops out a desk and chair to sit down and check-in every other employee coming into work before fans arrive.

They use this little handheld device that looks like those Palm Pilots from the early 2000s except on steroids and with more modifications than Hector's 3 Honda Civics with spoon engines (and on top of that, Hector just came into Harry's and ordered 3 T66 turbos, with NOS, and a Motec system exhaust 🚗💨)

(that Fast & Furious reference is beside the point–but now I understand why everything I write ends up being so long 😭🤷🏽‍♂️)

When I started working at the ballpark, I was assigned to the West Lot 👐

It's an outdoor parking lot on the west side of the stadium that has about 40 spots.

If you ever drive to a game at Marlins Ballpark (currently named Loan Depot Park as of the last editing of this story), I recommend parking in the West Lot. It's the same price as the garage except without having to wait in the ridiculous lines entering and exiting, and you can chill around your car and tailgate.

I worked the West Lot with my dude Jerry, aka NobleDaGenius. Check him out.

Jerry taught me everything I needed to know about the job and would spend most of his time spitting freestyles and songs of his while we stood around waiting for cars to check in. It was a pretty easy and slow life, except for standing out in the Miami summer sun with long black slacks and no shade 🥵

Just one week after starting, the manager came up to me and said, “You seem to be competent. Let's give you some more responsibilities.”

I said goodbye to the homie Jerry and was transferred to the Red Garage where all the players and season ticket holders park.

A week after that, they were like, “You know what? You're still competent, you should open the employee garage.”

And that's how I ended up getting to the park at 4 AM for about 2 weeks.

I enjoyed the position because it gave me the chance to talk to every single employee who worked at the park, and everyone got to know your face.

“Okay, D! I see you moving up!”

Thanks, dude, you're also high as hell, though. Spray some cologne and put some Visine in your eyes before clocking in.

I would work that spot from 4 AM to 4 PM.

About 2 weeks after that, they were like, you know what? You're a good face for important people to see. Let's move you to the player's garage.

That was a welcome change because I could sleep in a little later. The player's garage opened at 7 AM. I would check in every single player as they arrived hours before the game to get ready. Dee Gordon was the nicest dude. He would always come in, stop and say hi, and chat with me for a minute. Could it be that he was coming off a long PED suspension and wanted to be in everyone's good graces? The world will never know 🦉

José Fernandez wasn't as eager to chat.

Eventually, you start recognizing the people coming in, and you check them off immediately, no need for them to stop.

I always knew when José Fernandez showed up because he was the only one speeding through the line at 40 mph (64.37 km/h), never stopping or even waving hello. Or he'd be on his bike, zigzagging through the other people working the garage.

I'm not going to judge a guy just because he didn't want to stop and chat with the parking garage attendant. Sometimes you just want to show up and focus on your work.

Now, do I think we should build a statue to commemorate someone who died in a boat crash and was responsible for killing two other people because he was intoxicated while driving? I think it’s not a definitive “Yes” or “No” answer, but definitely a conversation worth having. And that’s where I’ll leave that.

OTHER EMPLOYEE: That phone cover looks like…

ME: It's Future

OE: Yea, that album by the rapper…

ME: Yeah, DS2

OE: Na, it’s called….

ME: Dirty Sprite 2...

OE: Exactly! What you know about that?

ME: What do you mean what do I know about that?

OE: Well, you're white, and you wear glasses, so idk I assumed you listen to rock and shit like that

ME: Well, I do love some good rock….

After checking in players all morning, their families, and that one dude who would always show up but was never on the list and I gave him a spot anyway because he always left before the game started and he told me he was a physical therapist who gave the players massages before the game and he was supposed to be there but one day he dapped me up on his way out and gave me $60 I was like oh shit idk if I should be letting this dude in 🫠 but nothing ever happened so we cool and yes this was all just one long sentence.

When the season ticket holders started showing up, the rest of the parking garage crew would arrive, and I had to stand up from my comfy seat. Nine of us across three different lanes checking people in, for the next 4–6 hours before, during, and after the game.

Don't ask me why, but most of the people working the other garages and lots were POC, while the ones in this garage were older white ladies…just an observation.

One day, the traffic was so bad, the parking manager had me stand outside on the street directing cars.

The thing is, that day, Monica Puig was playing the Gold Medal Match in the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. The match was happening just as the traffic was picking up, and we were an hour away from the first pitch. Being the excellent Puerto Rican I am, I was obviously following the Yahoo! Sports app's play-by-play while directing traffic.

Check the point, direct some cars 🚦

Check the point, direct some cars🚦

Check the point, check the point, check the point, oh fuck, the cars!

Jk jk I never fucked up directing the cars👷

But that didn't stop one of those old ladies who worked the Red Garage  from giving me the stink eye because “You’re not paying enough attention to your job.”

Listen here, Abbie, we're getting paid 10 dollars an hour to check in some dude with a Trump bumper sticker. I couldn't care less about occasionally checking my phone, so get the fuck off my back and let me live. My country is about to win its first-ever Olympic gold medal 🥇🇵🇷😭

I didn't use those exact words, but let's just say Janet was not convinced with my story. So, I continued to direct traffic while secretly checking the app and getting updated from my friend who was attending the game in person.

We won the first set LFGGGGG 🥳

Lost the second set, dammit 🥴

That's okay, we're going up against one of the best players in the world, she won't be going down without a fight.

We are DESTROYING in the third set, the gold is so close I can taste it. At this point, my phone is not entering my pocket. I'm hiding behind some big sign and refreshing every 5 seconds. That's when it almost all came crashing down.

One of the managers walks up to me and says, “Hey, Claire came over and complained to me that you're on your phone all the time. You gotta be careful with that.”

And I said, “Dude, Puerto Rico is about to win its first gold medal ever. Monica is up 4-1 in the third set, and she's dominating. If you think you need to fire me or send me home early because of having my phone out occasionally while still doing my job better than 99% of the people here, then fine, fucking do it. But I'm not missing the one chance I have to see my people dominate on the world stage. Even if it's play-by-play text updates from a sports app.”

And the manager said, “¡Cabrón, yo sé! Yo estoy tratando de chequear cuanto va el juego, pero este viejo dueño del parking siempre esta sentao alao mío en la oficina. Esconde el celular ahí y no dejes que te vea la vieja esa. Tienes suerte que se quejó conmigo y no el otro. Y me dejas saber cuando ganemos papa.”

That's right, he was Puerto Rican, and he knew exactly what was up.

(un saludito a mi pana Alex de Arecibo)

I pretended to sulk, so Abigail would think she'd won and continued to view live match updates.

4-1, 5-1, 6-1 WE FUCKING WON! WE DID IT! WE'RE GOLD MEDALISTS!

I let out a blood-curling ¡¡¡¡WOOOOOOOOOO PUÑETAAA!!!!!!!!

I turned around and, “FUCK YOU, KAREN, WE FUCKING DID IT!”

Okay, that's not true, I didn't scream “Fuck you!” at Lisa, but I did let out a scream that made everyone stop and stare.

And then, nothing happened. Everything proceeded as it would on a regular day. Because it wasn't a big fucking deal that I had my phone out for a total of about 5–10 minutes.

But it was a big deal that we are now champions, and no one can ever take this away from us.

Notice how I keep saying “us” instead of “her.” Because if you haven't noticed it already. When one of Los Nuestros wins, we all win 🇵🇷🥇🎾

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