The Police at Dodger Stadium: The Bad

A word of advice: if you find yourself injured in some way and happen to be going to Dodger Stadium, do not expect one iota of help from the unhelpful, untrained, uninformed and unsympathetic staff.

After having paid over $100 each for tickets to see The Police Saturday night, we decided to spend the extra $15 (over and above the exorbitant $20 charge for regular parking) for preferred parking, hoping to reduce the amount of walking my poor hobbling husband had to do on his dislocated and contused knee. We asked
the parking attendant which lot would be closest to our seats and were directed to the appropriate place. When we got to the entrance, we were directed to one entrance (more walking) only to be told when we got there that we needed to be elsewhere (walk right on back to where you came from). And then, when we finally got in, we realized (you know what's coming, right?) that our seats were exactly on the opposite side of the entrance we'd been directed to. Seriously, when you work at Dodger Stadium, do you never have to look at a map of the place as part of your training?

At this point, I was sure on of the seemingly millions of ushers and various staff hanging around talking to their buddies would be happy to help my obviously injured husband, in his big, black knee brace, and I reach our seats as quickly as possible. Luckily, there seemed to be this giant FIELD right in front of us that we could simply cross to get right to where we needed to be. But no, apparently you need to be personal friends with God himself (herself?) to be granted access to the field. Never mind that our seats were less than 10 rows up from the precious field. No amount of begging, pleading, or explaining would get us past the gate to the field. We were offered a wheel chair, which Ray wasn't interested in, and that was it. And forget trying to talk to a supervisor. It was like trying to find the Customer Service phone number on Amazon.com. It just wasn't happening. So, around the stadium we limped.

Fast forward to the end of the show (more to come on that in the next post). At this point, I figured that it would be OK for us to walk back across the field, seeing as the SHOW WAS OVER and EVERYONE WAS LEAVING. Ha! At this point the ushers were tired, cranky or just pissed off and once again the answer was "No." Not "Sorry, no." Not, "I wish I could." None of that. Forget courtesy. Forget that our ticket sales pay their salaries. Forget that we were just trying to get the hell out of the stadium. The rudeness was disgusting.

Apparently, having the preferred parking did get us out of the park faster, but that was the only benefit. I hate being one of those customers who is constantly complaining about things, but in this case, I don't think it's too much to ask for parking attendants to know which side of the stadium is odd or even, for entry attendants to know which entrance they happen to be manning, or for ushers to be polite and courteous even if they can't be helpful. While Dodger Stadium is a phenomenal place to watch a baseball game or concert, and Dodger Dogs are the best in the world, that doesn't eliminate the need for customer service. Los Angeles residents have a lot of entertainment options, including another baseball team down the freeway and a dozen or more other concert venues. Why go somewhere where you'll get ripped off and be disrespected?

Big thanks to malingering for this great shot of Dodger Stadium.