Last Thursday, I worked the concession stand at a Nashville Predators pre-season hockey game as a fund raiser for my son's high school band. Individuals from non-profit organizations work the stands, and a cut of the night's revenue goes to support the organization's mission. In our case, the overall nightly take is allocated evenly to an account for each person working the event.
We don't yet have our final numbers for last Thursday; however, its estimated I likely earned about $55 for my son's account to use for band expenses.
On the way home about two miles away from the arena, a Nashville policeman decided he'd rather shoot radar from a dark parking lot rather than root out drug deals likely taking place 100 yards in any direction from where he was sitting in his patrol car.
He said I was going about 10 miles over the speed limit. I'm not sure if I was or not; however, I thought most cops gave you a bit of an overage buffer anyway.
Cost of the ticket he wrote me - whether I pay the fine or the costs of traffic school as an alternative? Fifty dollars.
That's right. When all is said and done, I'll likely net about a Lincoln for seven hours of serving hot dogs, nachos, and Labatt's Blue. I could likely have made more per hour working in a clothing factory in a third world country.
Que sara sara.