Fortunately for us, the shelter was always in need of volunteers, and eagerly gave us aprons before setting us to work. Though not all of us were put on the food line. Igor got kitchen duty, Mack and I got the line, Ralph was in charge of seating people, and Steven, poor Steven, got clean-up duty. Which meant that my ass was going to pay for this debacle sometime soon, hopefully, in a quite literal fashion.
Then the teaming masses were let in, and we were instantly busy. I opened my mind to Mack as we started serving the trays of food. So much money in San Francisco, and yet so many homeless, I transmitted.
Seems like the more some people have, the less others do. Yin versus yang, he replied. Still, at least we’re somewhat paying our way so that Igor can eat. Kind of makes me feel all ri
