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Banging On A Frying Pan
A random collection of whatever thoughts happen to be going through my mind at the time...
Mood: Misanthropic. Forecast: Cloudy, thunderstorms possible
I had the perfect title in mind for this entry about two hours ago, but the hell if I can remember what it was. Oh well. xp

Anyway, I was working at the Gunsmith gate today, which is normally a fairly low-stress position-- it's at the edge of the Historic Area, so even though we're near one of the major, heavily visited sites (the Capitol), we still don't usually get too busy, or get too many people who don't already have admission tickets. For those of you who've never visited Williamsburg, how things work here might be a little confusing: we're not like a theme park, so anyone can walk the streets without purchasing a ticket (except for two hours during the "Revolutionary City" re-enactment, but that's a whole different, unpleasant story I'd rather not get into), but tickets are required to enter the majority of the historic sites.

Another common misconception is that CW is somehow connected with the federal or state park services. We're not. We're a private nonprofit foundation, and while John D. Rockefeller Jr. did contribute loads of money to get the project underway in the late 1920's and was involved with CW for the rest of his life, there's no Rockefeller money in the place now, and private donations aren't enough to keep the place running. So ticket sales make up more than half of our operating revenue.

But people don't seem to get it. They apparently live in some wonderful fairyland where dollars grown on trees and no one ever has to pay for anything. And so, my day was ruined today by an extremely snotty family who were clearly looking to bark at someone. They tried to send their kids in, saying the site was "free", even though they clearly knew it wasn't and must've thought I was standing there for decorative purposes or something. When I stopped them, they went into a big show of moaning and groaning, so I tried to explain what I just stated in that last paragraph. They didn't want to listen, and as they strode haughtily off, the woman said, "I'm a Virginian, and I can't even learn about my own history!"

I was tempted to shout back, "That's because you're too ******** cheap to buy a ******** ticket", but I restrained myself. I may be sick and tired of dealing with this s**t, but I'd still like to get a paycheck and have health insurance.





 
 
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