Parking Lot Attendant Has That Vacant Look

Sometimes you worry you’re going to run out of things to write about, and then a Boston parking lot attendant buys the Dodgers.

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THE FIRST guy I ran into at Dodger Stadium was one of parking guy’s many PR advisors, happy to work for him, I presume, because they get free parking. But he didn’t seem happy with me. “I’m the Useless Joker” you referred to in the paper recently, he said.

I complimented him, of course, on already knowing his role, which was going to save a lot of time.

Most of the media, meanwhile, were downstairs in the Dugout Club eating food that had been set out. I passed, figuring the new guy would bill everyone later.

I mentioned it to Tom Lasorda, and I could tell by the way he stopped chewing for a second that he has never paid for anything he has ever eaten.

Later, Lasorda and I would meet again, and Lasorda would be screaming at me: “Believe me, from the bottom of my heart, I believe in this new guy.” I didn’t have to look around, because I knew the Boston parking lot attendant and his wife had to be standing right behind me.

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THE NEWS conference started and the first thing I noticed was the parking lot attendant was wearing makeup to look good on TV. I figured maybe he was hoping the “Southern California Sports Report” would like what they saw and hire him on the weekends so he could earn a few extra bucks. He couldn’t be worse than Jack Haley.

Then he started talking, and my apologies to Jack.

He read from a schlocky prepared script and looked pretty lame when he said, “I intend to restore the glory days of ... “ and had to drop his head to the script so he could finish saying, “Dodger baseball.”

When he got to the part where he said, he “knows what it takes to inspire,” if this speech was any indication -- you can’t believe a thing the guy says.

“How are we going to win?” he asked himself, and then he started to recite the alphabet: “A-B-C.” I was waiting for the applause.

I had already seen the press release the Useless Joker had composed, and I guess I can’t call him Useless any more.

Anyway, the Joker quoted McCourt saying, A stands for “accountability,” and B for “baseball, baseball, baseball.” I was laughing so hard I never made it to C.

Later I asked his wife, Jamie, who will be the Dodgers’ new vice chair of something, if she has ever heard her husband get to the end of the alphabet.

“He’s brilliant,” she said, and if that were the case, he’d have thrown out the prepared speech and spoken from the heart, telling everyone H is for hitters, and “I intend to get some.”

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WHEN IT came to questions, I began. He had just told everyone that, beginning today, he was going to eat lunch with season-ticket holders. I wanted to know who would be picking up the tab?

You should have seen the look on the face of the parking lot guy. Derrick Hall, the Dodgers’ VP for Saving the Day, said lunch would be “on the organization.” I asked Hall if he had consulted with the parking lot attendant, and the poor guy from Boston looked tapped out.

There was very little substance to anything the parking lot guy said, and he wasn’t opposed to fibbing -- on the first day on the job. He indicated he has always been a Dodger fan, although he has never been to a game and owned Red Sox season tickets.

He also said the Dodgers have the best fans in sports. So I asked him if he had been successful in his effort to buy the Red Sox, what would he have said about Boston fans at his press conference? He answered with a lot of words that made no sense, so he obviously speaks the same language as Micro-Manager Jim Tracy.

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HE SAID no one should worry about his financial situation because the baseball owners had unanimously approved his sales pitch. I’m not sure I’d want my reputation hanging on a group of folks led by Bud Selig.

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SOMEONE ASKED if he intended to raise parking fees, and for the first time all day, he flashed a sense of humor. “Parking is easy. As the new parking lot attendant in town, that’s my area of expertise.... “ he said, while never answering the question.

When the press conference ended I noticed that Stu Nahan was glaring at me. “You say something to me?” Nahan said. “You want to step outside?”

I had no idea what was upsetting him, so I asked.

“You asked all the questions at the press conference,” he huffed. “It would have been nice if I could have asked one,” and had I known he was so concerned about finding out whether the Dodgers were going to still provide free Dodger Dogs to the media every game, I’d have asked for him.

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THE PARKING lot guy said a former Giants’ employee, Corey Busch, would be in charge of his transition team, which gives you a clue to the kind of people the parking lot attendant is going to hire.

The morning newspaper had pretty much described Busch as a guy who has struck out in almost everything he has ever tried professionally. While that makes him a perfect fit for the Dodgers, do we really need this after Kevin Malone and Dan Evans?

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AT THE end of the day the parking lot guy sat with a group of writers and talked about his four sons and how badly he felt that two of them could not be there. He said they were taking exams.

I asked if he and his family had flown commercially or on a private plane to Los Angeles. I wanted to know if maybe he couldn’t afford to fly the whole family here.

“I’m not going to answer that question how I flew here,” he said. “Come on, T.J., you’re killing me.”

Welcome to Los Angeles.

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T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com. To read his previous columns, go to latimes.com/simers.