The pecking order

In nature there is a hierarchy, a pecking order in every species. Stallions herd the mares, there's an alpha dog in the pack, even chickens have a pecking order.

We came face to face with the pecking order of the football game concession stand last night, where Philo and I were recruited to work, volunteered as in "what night did you want to work the concession stand?"  One of the perks of a child learning percussion.  Percussion- hitting things with sticks.  Banging on things. Band membership with physical side-effects.

So... we trudged up the hill to the concrete block building swarming with flies and bees and took our place among the flock.And began watching the pecking order emerge. It was obvious we might lose some feathers.

These are the positions: hot dogs, nachos/frito pies, pretzels/drinks, order taker/money handler, and hander (as in 'hand me that...').

Apparently to get the good spots you have to arrive an hour early, plant yourself and be... assertive.  I was assigned the pretzel/drink station, and Philo took up position by the nachos.  We scurried to fill the orders shouted (or mumbled) out by the money changers.  After a half-dozen nacho orders, the boss-cow lady moved Philo to hot dogs and pointed another woman to his apparently coveted corner of chips and canned cheese.

Philo said he's never been demoted at work before, and he wondered what you have to do to work your way up to nachos cheeser. I told him not to stress over it, cause it was a matriarchal herd and he was the only male.  But next time, I'm taking the percussion sticks with me.