HAVE MERCY!

     Arrived at 10, got home at 3—my feet are sore, but my heart is high—we had tons of fun today!
     One of the office workers and her husband were blocking my parking area when I arrived. She said, "We're fixing the gate for Major God." Anyway, her husband moved his truck so I could park, and I headed for the back stairs where I first got a glimpse of Kevin. "Hey, Kevin!" I hollered.
     "Hey, Miss Lady," he answered, continuing with his usual long string of disjointed conversation. I did understand him to say he'd been robbed and all his rocks were stolen. (No doubt Doug and I are guilty, but not confessing.)
     Kevin's mess was strewn on the steps, and he had a friend there too. It was a challenge, but I managed to step around the fellows and their belongings. Thankfully, Doug was quick to open the door for me. Kevin is downright dirty today. His hands and fingernails are black! I'm just not accustomed to seeing him so very dirty. At one point during our numerous encounters, I saw his young friend offer him some deodorant. That was a first!
     Doug and I spent our first hour sacking PBJs and meat-sandwich lunches...while he vented heavily about the office lady "intruding" on his day alone there. Apparently, he feels a lot of pressure when the office folks are around; the place has regulations, and while they are written in stone but seldom followed… it's just that they exist. Kinda puts a body on edge. NOT that we were breaking any regulations!
     There are tons of donated foods in the coolers. Doug was very late deciding what to serve for lunch, and that put him in a tizzy, but once his plan was on the stove, he calmed down. We had donated fried chicken, cornbread muffins and fresh sliced fruits. I boiled 2 dozen eggs, and we heated pinto beans. The food was well received.
     Our residents are beginning to show change, and their number has increased. No youth today, and Fancy Lady was also missing; however, a friend of hers (new to me and just eat up with rheumatoid arthritis) came to the counter to ask if I might save some boiled eggs for Fancy. She has asked for those, you know. So I gave a bag of four eggs to Gatekeeper to save for Fancy.
     Gatekeeper is still with us, still calm and just riding easy in that saddle. We might get to keep him for awhile. That would be lovely. He reminds me of a cousin; let's call him Richard.
     Our "little old lady" who is toothless came to ask for a special favor, and that was the high point of my day. "Can you get me a Dr. Pepper? It's got prune juice in it, and it does right by me. If I mix it with a cup of coffee, I'm good."
     I assured her that I had a good understanding of her need and fetched her a 12-ounce bottle with a screw-on cap, so she could save some for later. We even whispered about the rules of taking food and drinks from the dining room and how she'd need to hide that. She assured me she didn't want any roaches(!) in her room, so she had a plan already in place. If only you could see this wee person whose eyes sparkle with life as a child's—her consistent cheer, her refusal to acknowledge any rigors of homelessness.
     All three of the young folks from the hotel across the street came for a lunch plate. It appears that their boss and one of the others may still work there, but the third one is just hanging out with his buds. They're behaving themselves, and prison may have done them some good. The kitchen was crowded for awhile, but they are good company.
     When lunch was over at 12:30, Doug and I were cleaning and working toward filling the dinner plates, but we had a number of interruptions. Kevin pounded on the back door to ask for ice and drink. He also wanted a sack lunch for his friend on the steps. I gave the guys plenty of ice, food and drinks and returned to cleaning. Around 1:00, our young gal with the service dog came through the dining-room door in a housecoat, looking for all the world like a sick child who needed her mommy.
     I cannot get in too deeply with their personal issues, so I simply gave her the foods she wanted. We had not yet dispensed with the leftovers. She was very picky—two of these, only one of those, none of that. She gave some of the foods a nauseous look, but seemed purely hungry for others. I didn't question her, but we don't pamper folks like that as a rule. Before I could turn around, I noticed that the girl and her foods had disappeared! My mistake.
     Another knock at the door revealed a thin young woman who wanted a sack lunch and a drink. She smiled warmly and thanked me. But, you know, she might be the next one with a slit throat… Where is the answer to this homeless, drug-addicted problem?
     After that, Doug cleaned up the serving counter and threw away what little was left, though he'd kept two plates in the warming oven. Then a fellow came in from a long morning at church, and he wanted one of the plates plus a sack lunch! He said he certainly could eat that much food because he's hypoglycemic (needs protein and no sugar). He ate everything, then returned to ask for sweets. I morphed into his mother and gave him some gum. No cookies for you! He left happy.
     Then we had yet another late arrival—a most unusual young person we call "she/her" who is new there and who has not shown evidence of good manners. She questioned me at length and with a poor attitude about why we didn't have any lunch left. I gave her a sack lunch, she loaded her arms with FOUR soft drinks and walked out, right in front of me and Richard, while we raised our voices telling her that was forbidden!
     Someone said she takes drinks and food to "the people out front."
     Still, Doug and I needed to plate dinner, but Kevin got in the picture again. Kevin is as drunk as a skunk today, and Doug spent at least 10 minutes gently reprimanding him and extracting promises of better behavior. Kevin gave Doug a fist bump, and they shook hands. I got my hand sanitizer and stood by, but that dressing down took a lot longer than I expected.
     I grabbed an opportunity to speak with Kevin's friend. He's a handsome young man who is clear-eyed and healthy. I told him that he was obviously sober and able to do better than hang around with Kevin. I told him he needs to get his life in order and get a place of his own. "He's had a place of his own!" Kevin said, perhaps proudly. The young man agreed with me. I hope he understood that I believe he can do better; I believe he can overcome whatever thing has brought him to these back stairs with Kevin. I believe in him. It's all I can do.
    Finally, Doug and I plated the foods he'd had warming all morning: sweet potatoes, ham, corn and a biscuit on each of 38 plates. I could not believe it was well after 2 o'clock before I could take off my apron. What a full, full day.