Trolley driving for the NCAA.

Yesterday I spent a long, boring day driving a shuttle for the media to the least attended games of the NCAA Big 10 basketball tournament. I drove newspaper and radio, writers, broadcasters and photographers around. Apparently I also picked up the former commissioner of the Big 10 and Big 8 (Now Big 12)conferences. He was an old man who kept taking every opportunity to introduce himself to people as the former commissioner. Kind of a tacky move, I think. He'd ask them where they were from. They'd answer and then he'd immediately say, "I'm Old Braggy. I'm the former commissioner of the Big 10."
Am I crazy, or is that a dicky thing to go around saying? I know he was at the tournament but still, I don't go around downtown Chicago telling strangers, "I drive those trolleys. You want to know me."
Is there a job where (if you're not already wearing a uniform) strangers need to be repeatedly reminded who you are? I'm trying to think of one. Maybe if you're the guy who picks up the police horse poop, people might want to know that you're getting to it. Of course, that's a fictitious position because no one picks up the police horse poop.
Later in the day, I began overhearing a man on my trolley talking on his cel phone. At first, the fact that the guy was discussing sports seemed like no big deal but then the sentences got weird. "Now don't be surprised if they suddenly up their game with the addition of the two-time all-american from Tulane." Ohhh. He's broadcasting. I really wanted to slam on the breaks or shout "fire" or "You broadcastin'?" but my need to not piss off clients and therefore keep my job held my tongue. However, I did manage to spout off a passive-aggressive, pretty loud, "Is he on the air?" to someone sitting close to me. Of course, I said it way too loud but that was no accident. The passenger quietly nodded and lowered his eyes. "They can always catch you." He said. So why are there still studios? Eventually won't it all just be a giant nextel party?
Finally, I became aware toward the end of the day that the people who were in charge of the transportation for this event, and therefore, what I was doing, were young and shallow and not very aware of their own cliche' verbalizations all day. One girl kept referring to everything as "outstanding" while her partner (who stuttered) referred to everyone as "amazing".
Girl: The Iowa State fans are outstanding.
Stuttering Boy: Did you h-h-have m m m m m m Mrs. Grace?
Girl: She's outstanding.
Stuttering Boy: She'sssssssssSan amazing woman.
Girl: She's incredible.
Stuttering Boy: She has such annnnnnn ...... amazing passion. And y-y-y-y-
Girl: Her class was outstanding.
Stuttering Boy: Wwwwww--
Girl: I'm gonna crash with some friends in Wrigleyville. That area's just outstanding for partying.
Stuttering Boy: Yyyyy-yy-ou gonna--
Girl: Shut up.
And she had terrible Wisconsin punk hair. Picture what Wisconsin punk would look like. Yep. There's her hair. Dyed a bad color and ironed into odd angles. Oh and harsh eye-liner.
I still fantasized about sex with her, but she's of a good child-bearing age so that almost goes without saying.
Boy I like imagining sex with every young woman I meet! I must be in my weekly male period.
My penis is Angry!