November 25, 2013
It’s difficult to understand which side of the
fence I am on sometimes, especially when both sides are working on the same project.
Standing at one long table, jiggling to the music and placing two cans of off-brand
green beans into the sack that already contains a can of cranberry sauce, yams,
and GMO corn nibblets. After my two cans, in go peas, a box of stuffing, bag of
rice and oversized card to inform the recipient about the donating agency. A frozen
turkey and Target-hand-packed sack of potatoes and the grocery bag, accompanied
by a big guy in a plaid/green/Wild fan/blue jean/army coat/red sweatshirt to
take out to the car, bus stop, taxi stand or van. The line flows as 70’s music blares
and we all stand at attention, at our stations. I manage to meander to other areas,
collecting the ticket and escorting the customer to the next bag carrier, wishing
them a Happy Thanksgiving while looking them in the eye. Most people met my gaze
and smiled. It was worth the ache in my lower back. I made it to the potato sorting,
hauling full sacks to the line-up in the big room, arranging rice bags and putting
the first can into the bag. I like to be a roamer, say hello to the crew, move around
and dance a bit to the songs. I only wish I knew just how many bags were piled during
my 3 hours and fourteen minute shift. I am a numbers gal, after all.
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