MIXING IT UP

      Until today, I had not traveled to the shelter in a drenching downpour such as required an umbrella just to navigate the 20 feet from the car to the door. This miserable rain that set in yesterday continues with a vengeance and hammers on my sinuses. There were a half dozen men smoking under the eaves on the pre-release side, but no one offered to open a door for me, though my arms were full …

       Cutie Gatekeeper let me in. He was preoccupied with a young man who appeared to be asking for assistance, but we are not a "drop-in" shelter. Dean and his wife were busy in the kitchen, and lunch preparations were mostly a done deal. I was more than a little shocked to hear that we were serving the same hotdogs we had last Sunday, and that we'd served them yesterday (with no ill results).

       A pot of chili would be used to top those dogs, and a few baskets of deep-fried potato wedges would go on the side. That was the plan. I didn't like the plan very much, so I let Dean think he was giving me permission to make a pot of soup, and I talked him into letting me serve out a large container of fruit I found in the fridge. When all was said and done, we had four or five plates left over, and that's as close to perfect as it gets.

       I had plenty of time before lunch to make up a dozen PBJ sacks, but things were hectic when the groups came in because we had so many choices. "You can have hotdogs with chili, hotdogs without chili, fruit or no fruit, and/or a bowl of soup. The potato wedges were a given. One man ate four hotdogs with potatoes, soup, fruit, and then a whole fish-sandwich with sides meal from yesterday. He's keeping up his girth.

       Among the people I met today were a man who is becoming a woman, and a woman who seems to be a man. No, they're not together. The little girls who are sisters have moved out, but the other little girl is still there, as are two infants. Everybody got toys.

       On leaving, I passed through the foyer where six people were hunkered against the pain of life. I don't think they live there. Then I dashed through the rain, loaded my bags in the car, and backed out. That's when I saw the mother of one of the infants pushing her stroller out the door to take advantage of a long cigarette which was already between her lips. I do believe she would have done that even if there were not a few sheltered spots to stand on such a day as this.

       Call me when it's over. I have a headache.