BUSINESS IS SLOW

       Again, I spent much of the morning waiting for lunchtime. Mr. A. and Crazy were helping Doug with assorted duties that dealt with stacking drink cartons, dinner prep and moving boxes in the freezer. Then Crazy made himself comfortable in the dining room with his newspaper. One of the pre-release came in to eat his lunch early, and Doug told him to sit outside the range of the camera…
       Doug and I packaged 25 sacks of PBJs. All we had to put in those sacks were the 2 sandwiches each, a soft drink, a napkin, and a handful of Rolo candies. That's the worst meal I've ever seen the shelter serve, and I realize those go in a plastic bin on the sidewalk for street folks, but we've always had more to give them. Not right now.
       Doug tells me that he's only allowed to put 25 sacks in that bin each day. As it is, people take more than one, and sacks are often found on the street, pillaged, and left with half the food in them. He says people will drive by in BMWs and Mercedes and take sacks from that bin. Hunger has a ride…
       For the first time since One and Joey were fired, the shelter has settled into a dull, monotonous rhythm. Mr. Huggy's groping is gone (thank God), there hasn't been a rowdy pre-release in months, and even the homeless are fairly well dressed and healthy looking. One fellow was even reeking of cheap aftershave this morning. I give him credit for trying.
       The family of grandmothers and teens is moving to a place of their own this week! Grandma is excited. The kids were not very talkative today, but I took an interest in their behaviors. I gave Girl THE fuzziest, softest stuffed kitten I've ever seen, and I gave Boy a little box with a LEGO toy in it. I told Boy that it was a bit beneath his age level, but I wanted him to put it together anyway… proceeding to give Girl the kitten and demonstrate to her its softness. She was a long time focusing on the kitten. She wanted the LEGO box! She took it excitedly, and held it out to Boy with some sort of private language they speak. I did take a large bottle of bubbles to fill up their bubble bottles, but boy didn't know where his was, and Girl said hers was still full… after all that squealing over the bubbles. Before lunch was over, I noticed that the fuzzy kitten was on Boy's side of the table, very close to his right arm. Well I remember swapping Christmas presents with my brother: he got me a model car kit, and I got him a huge pink piggy bank.
       For lunch, we served deep-fried corn dogs, French fries, baked beans & fruit cups. I dropped a handful of Rolos on each plate too. Lousy nutrition! Dinner will be pork chops, brown gravy with onions, green beans, rolls, and rice.
       Next week, Doug says I'm making the soup! I look forward to that. I'm taking a friend to the kitchen with me, and I look forward to that too! And you too!

THINGS STILL DISAPPEAR

       I was away last week, enjoying my family. This week, Mr. A. was away, but that crazy dude was there along with Doug. Crazy didn't bother me. It was a long, long morning at the shelter, with very little to do. Doug planned his potato soup, pre-fab chicken salad and fruit cocktail for lunch. Other than stirring up the soup, there was no preparation involved. We called in the pre-lease 15 minutes early, and the residents 15 minutes ahead of their lunchtime. That group was substantial, and we served nearly 30 plates.
       Boy came to lunch. No smile. No bubbly personality. The place is dragging the child down. Girl stayed in their room, in bed, "not feeling well"—again. Great-grandma was the first in that family to come to lunch, and we spoke. That tiny woman has a very bloodshot left eye—and the condition appears to be chronic.
       When Grandma arrived, I realized Girl was not there and asked after her. Later, I gave Grandma a little package of makeup for Girl. Grandma said, "We don't get no washcloths here." She said she'd bought a pack of washcloths, but they'd been stolen from the family's room. That's when I learned that they are not allowed to lock their rooms unless they leave the building.
       Makes me wonder: How many wash cloths would it take to satisfy the whole population there, such that no one felt the need to steal them? Maybe 100? It's something to think about.
       I gave Boy a new Duncan yo-yo and told him I'll expect to see him rocking the baby and walking the dog next week. He was silent, his face expressionless. Then he sat with his plate and spent a long time tediously unwrapping each little Rolo Caramel. Doug had saved me a whole tub of candies, hidden in the pantry!
       Thankfully, even slow, tiring events come to an end. Maybe next week we'll find our stride again.