Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, November 12, 1994 TAG: 9411140022
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: ADRIANNE BEE SPECIAL TO THE ROANOKE TIMES & WORLD-NEWS
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Medium
This is where it all happens, the 40-pound bags of ice are hauled in and shoveled into a tower where plastic cups sit below waiting to be filled. This ice will chill the Pepsi that pours down and stops automatically just before it spills over the top. This is one of four rooms where the Pepsi vendors rush in and out for another tray of beverages to pick up, another tray to sell.
What's the worst part of being a Pepsi vendor?
``People buying a Pepsi so they can dump it on your head,'' said Noah Sanboeuf, relating a bad experience he had with an intoxicated fan. He smiles and adds, ``I love it, get a rush out of it, everyone's going crazy like a Pepsi commercial.''
Pepsi vendors range in age from 15 to 35; most of them are between 15 and 21.
They are unsung heroes, these vendors, trying to stay afloat in a sea of thirsty fans who want Diet, not regular, Pepsi; who don't have correct change; who are sometimes impatient and rude; who have had a few too many beers. They all work hard, but there are stars among them that outshine the rest.
Meet Fran Laporte, game best: $170. A student at Life Bible College, from where at least 30 vendors hail, he and his wife, Cheryl, enjoy their work and are glad for the extra income. ``No, we don't compete,'' Cheryl Laporte says with a smile so warm it could melt ice. "We encourage each other and joke around. I'll tell a section, `Don't buy from him, buy from me.'''
``Talking to the people is the best part,'' says Fran Laporte. ``And where else can you make $45 an hour?'' He has just returned with an empty tray. Didn't he just have a full one a minute ago? He doesn't stop to speak, but keeps moving and disappears out the door. ``Pepsi, Pepsi!'' you can hear him yell.
Some of the men and women in this Pepsi room have worked together for four years, which explains their calm nature as they almost instinctually fill cup after cup, tray after tray to satisfy the demand of the thirsty crowd. In the midst of their work, a man comes to the doorway and yells in, ``Hey, can I get two Cokes?''
He is promptly told that he will have to get a drink from a vendor like everyone else, and after he leaves they roll their eyes.
``Coke is a dirty four-letter word,'' one worker says with a laugh.
Rocky Weitkamp, another top Pepsi seller, smiles and says, "What do you want to know? I don't drink Coke.''
He describes his job as ``hard work'' and tells about a drunk man who tried to start a fight with him during the last game. ``I had to set him down,'' he says. Rocky sells about 20 trays on a good day.
``We sell 13,000 cups of Pepsi a game,'' says Tim Swecker, territory coordinator for Pepsi. ``Night games are bad. We want those day games with 80-degree temperatures.''
These are real people, not ``Coke boys and Pepsi kids,'' as Brian Weiss says he's sometimes addressed. It is sometimes painful walking with a heavy tray full of Pepsis strapped around your neck.
``Backbreaking, neck breaking,'' says Eric McKinney on his first day. Will he last? Swecker claims he loses 10 to 15 vendors per game.
``It's been a long day; it's hot; and I'm too small to carry 30 drinks,'' says a discouraged, yet smiling, Aiesha Todd, also on her first day. ``Some people are very rude. One man said,'Hey, Coke girl, it's about time, it took you three years to get over here.'''
``I almost fell down once,'' says Heather Brown as people come from all sides waving bills in her face. Swecker related one particularly bad injury four years ago when a vendor slipped and fell on a patch of ice.
Despite their travails, Pepsi vendors make only $3 per tray.
But there are other bonuses, said James Becker, who hums to himself as he works. "Most of the people are really nice and give good tips," he says.
by CNB