EULOGY TO DEATH-IN-A-TUB

       Approaching the back steps this morning, I knew the kitchen was full of men—too full. Truth be told: unless Helpful is there, any number of folks in the kitchen is workable. But he was standing by the back door as I entered, so I forced myself to say, "Morning." He pretended like he didn't hear me, and I knew I'd catch hell if I didn't say it again…
       Doug is back—it feels like order has been restored. That's because it has. Before Doug left, there was much talk about his "dirty kitchen," and "missing food," and other nonsense that apparently comes from Miss Lillian and her spies. However… while Doug was gone, those problems increased dramatically. He is officially off the hook.
       Dean was there briefly, BOB came later in the morning, and Mr. A. packed a lot sack lunches and breakfasts. Doug was heating a large pan of leftover roast beef and another of rice for the pre-release. They got rolls with that too. For the homeless residents, I made a small pot of soup and we served out the leftover plates from last night. The plan was to open a tub of chicken salad IF the other foods ran out. Two people came to lunch after the other foods were consumed, so a new tub of chicken salad was brought to the work table. Three of us gathered around, remarking about the obviously new product—new label, 5% less fat and not as yummy-looking as the usual salad. The guys tasted it first and declared it to be wonderful, so I took one bite. It's full of some sort of green peppers (my body rejects those). Two hours later, those @#$%&*! peppers are still haunting me. I'm really going to miss Death-In-A-Tub!
       I was there only 2-1/2 hours,  but Helpful made it seem much longer, having to be on guard every minute. I've been warned to not SAY anything in front of him about Miss L or anything else that might be food for his mischief. He'll stand between me and the stove as I try to bring a tray of full soup bowls to the serving counter. He knows he's being rude, and after all of the pre-release had been served their beef, rice & roll, Helpful yelled to me from the counter, "Aren't you going to serve the soup!"
       There was not enough soup to feed the pre-release and the homeless… the soup was not for the pre-release… and to get a group interested in something they couldn't have was playing with fire—mostly mine. Something in me was "set aloose" today, and I heard myself shout at him, "NO!"
       Sometimes he was reading the paper in the dining room, sometimes helping himself to food, sometimes going up to the front-desk area to hang around. He loiters at the shelter every day. Just when you think it's safe, he'll come sliding through the back door, having left through the front. I do not understand why this supposedly sacred institution allows loitering, but no one can think of a way to get rid of him—no one on my watch.
       Only the 12-year-old among the children was at lunch. I had some delightful gifts for her, donated by a friend whose girls are grown. The child was so pleased. The babies' mothers were gifted with adorable new Onesies from my friend. They too were thrilled. The only disappointed soul was Mr. A. "Didn't you bring me a bear today?"
       Between the crowd and the IDIOT in the kitchen, there was very little room for interaction with our diners today; besides, the groups were not so large because spring has sprung and folks have better places to be… sounds like time for a nap.