I volunteered this weekend. I’m not bragging. I served walking tacos at a concession stand during a lacrosse tournament. I put mystery meat in little bags of either Fritos or Doritos and covered that magic with cheese, salsa, lettuce, and in some cases, jalapenos. We didn’t have sour cream—believe me, its absence didn’t go unnoticed.
It took me roughly 44 years to make my debut in food service. Late to the game, I was in the dark about so much...such as the advent of tacos you can eat out of a bag.
This weekend I also learned that concession stands aren’t really my cup of tea...
although we did serve tea at our fancy stand.
Welcome to a suburban lacrosse tourney—where walking tacos aren’t even the most extravagant menu offering. I don’t recall many concession stands in my day. Maybe there was a soggy hot dog somewhere along the line, but in 2017 a concession stand looks like this:
- Walking tacos
- Hot dogs (available with chili and cheese)
- Pulled pork sandwiches
- Italian hoagies
- Turkey hoagies
- Pulled pork nachos
- Candy, candy, candy
- Hot drinks
- Cold drinks
Always one to overthink a situation, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps this was more complicated than it needed to be?
Perhaps the dedicated and wonderful women who were in charge of the whole affair love their children and the sport of LAX more than me?
Had I been in charge, there would have been hot dogs, ketchup, mustard, chips and drinks. No one has ever asked me to be in charge mind you, and after this post, nobody ever will☺
It turns out: I am my mother’s daughter. My mom, one likely to purchase two rotisserie chickens and six chocolate eclairs for 12 people, is no fan of excess when it comes to food or anything else. My sister jokes that were she to pen an autobiography she'd call it: "Half a Ho Ho", in honor of the Hostess brand treats we’d get in our school lunches. You see, my mom went to war with trans fats long before the FDA so a half a serving of "junk" was as far as she was willing to go.
I get it though, people go freaking all-in to raise money for their kids’ athletic passions or whatever, and apparently walking tacos make bank? The fact remains: I should never be charged with manning a crock pot. I’m a simple girl better left to retrieving pre-made hoagies from the fridge, handing them to the customer and gleefully shouting: "Check out our comprehensive condiment display. You bet your a** we have homemade Italian dressing!" Yes, those are the things I say out loud.
While I may not be the mom who plans, organizes and executes fundraisers (shh: I’ve never been to a PTA meeting either, mostly for fear I'd end up in a fistfight) I am one who will happily help at your concession stand (and later blog about it).
For me, there’s a lesson in most things. This weekend, when the last walking taco walked off at a deep discount, I learned that the moms who aren’t like me turn out to be pretty great sometimes, and...