Shea Stadium. A Reminiscence.
From a recent Reuters story:
PARIS – Around a dozen Japanese tourists a year need psychological treatment after visiting Paris as the reality of unfriendly locals and scruffy streets clashes with their expectations, a newspaper reported on Sunday.
"A third of patients get better immediately, a third suffer relapses and the rest have psychoses," Yousef Mahmoudia, a psychologist at the Hotel-Dieu hospital, next to Notre Dame cathedral, told the newspaper Journal du Dimanche.
Already this year, Japan's embassy in Paris has had to repatriate at least four visitors — including two women who believed their hotel room was being bugged and there was a plot against them."
A Japanese woman, Aimi, told the paper: "For us, Paris is a dream city. All the French are beautiful and elegant … And then, when they arrive, the Japanese find the French character is the complete opposite of their own."
Reminds me of the last time I went to a game at Shea Stadium. I arrived remembering the well-mannered ushers of my youth — hell, they don't even look at you anymore, they just point you to your seat and stick their hand out expecting some grease. I told the old man I'll find my own seat, thank you very much (at least the guy handing you a towel in the men's room is making an attempt). And the fans. Man, my whole section was filled with a bunch of drunken fools who wouldn't have looked out of place at O'Grady's during a going out-of-business happy hour (not exactly a surprise, but now that we're on the subject). And the stadium itself…a complete dump. Go to the men's room at your own peril — if you find the warm sudsy feeling of urine lapping against your socks soothing, it's just the place. Thankfully the Mets pulled it out, coming from behind to win 6-4…otherwise I might also be taking the 7 train to a shrink's office and turning Japanese.
October 30th, 2006 at 7:45 pm
CHE:
As a graduate of the Barbizon School of Washroom Attendants, I especially appreciate the mention you gave in your blog regarding “the guy handing you a towel in the men’s room”. The correct term is “Lavatory Courtesy Specialist”; regardless, in our profession we rarely are noticed let alone acknowledged. Frankly, at times we are even somewhat disdained.
Keep up the good work and, please, the next time you notice the fresh-smelling cleanliness of a public restroom facility and there is an LCS on-site, please be generous and put a bill in the tip-bowl. You can even take a little splash of Aramis on the way out.
Thank you for your kindness.