The Customers: Big Grandpa in the Wheelchair
I'd estimate that 10% of the people who eat at the soup kitchen are in some way disabled. There are a handful of amputees, and people who use wheelchairs. I was in the kitchen, ladling out soup (we actually do always serve soup with lunch) when I heard a commotion in the dining room. I look up to see a big, older black guy sitting in an automated wheelchair, trying to maneuver past the entranceway.
"Oh, it's big grandpa in the wheelchair!", Ruth said excitedly.
"Who?", I asked.
"Big grandpa in the wheelchair. It's what Joey calls him, so we all call him that now."
I understand immediately. Joey has a habit of coming up with endearing nicknames that stick.
"He is the nicest man! Hurry up and get him a plate!", Ruth tells me.
I go and serve him, and he is indeed very nice. He makes sure to thank me for the plate and say please when asking for hot sauce. Manners are sometimes in short supply amongst the customers. On this particular day, the most acknowledgment I got when serving was a few assorted grunts. Not that I expect anything, but a simple "thanks" goes a long way, and I usually remember the nice customers when it's time to hand out extra sack lunches.
I go back to the kitchen, waiting for people to finish up so I can serve more food, and just sort of stare at Big Grandpa. I'm guessing he's in his early fifties. While lively banter goes on at the table, Big Grandpa prefers to concentrate on his meat loaf. He has both legs, and wears a black windbreaker over an Army style t-shirt. I wonder what his story is.
Time and experience have taught me that most of the people that frequent the soup kitchen are there due to circumstances resulting from their own poor choices in life. Still, the part of me that is not completely jaded wonders if there aren't at least a few there because of bad luck. It's always the nice ones that I wonder about.
And so I start to paint a picture of Big Grandpa's life in my head. Ex-GI. Comes back from the war and works as a manual laborer, doing construction. He enjoys his life, but never finds anyone to settle down with. For fun he drinks and eats until one day years of unhealthy eating and drinking take their toll on his body in the form of diabetes. With poor circulation caused by the disease, he's forced into a wheelchair and can't really work. Disability payments aren't enough to get by, so he eats at the soup kitchen...
"Hey sunshine! You gonna sit on your ass all day or dish up more meat loaf?"
I'm jolted out of my daydream by the sound of Gus yelling at me. I go back to work. Time passes and the rush eventually slows down. Later as I'm sweeping up in the kitchen, Lewis (another of the regular customers) comes back to talk to me.
"Say, can I get another sack lunch..." he asks.
"I already gave you two, Lewis."
"It ain't for me...It's for Babymaker."
"Who?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
"Babymaker!", he exclaims, a little annoyed. He points. "That dude...in the wheelchair."
I follow the line of his finger straight to Big Grandpa.
"Why do you call him that?", I ask, unsure if I want to really know the answer.
"Because he like to make babies. He got 18 kids running around!"
I hand Lewis the sack lunch and sit down. Another illusion shattered...
"Oh, it's big grandpa in the wheelchair!", Ruth said excitedly.
"Who?", I asked.
"Big grandpa in the wheelchair. It's what Joey calls him, so we all call him that now."
I understand immediately. Joey has a habit of coming up with endearing nicknames that stick.
"He is the nicest man! Hurry up and get him a plate!", Ruth tells me.
I go and serve him, and he is indeed very nice. He makes sure to thank me for the plate and say please when asking for hot sauce. Manners are sometimes in short supply amongst the customers. On this particular day, the most acknowledgment I got when serving was a few assorted grunts. Not that I expect anything, but a simple "thanks" goes a long way, and I usually remember the nice customers when it's time to hand out extra sack lunches.
I go back to the kitchen, waiting for people to finish up so I can serve more food, and just sort of stare at Big Grandpa. I'm guessing he's in his early fifties. While lively banter goes on at the table, Big Grandpa prefers to concentrate on his meat loaf. He has both legs, and wears a black windbreaker over an Army style t-shirt. I wonder what his story is.
Time and experience have taught me that most of the people that frequent the soup kitchen are there due to circumstances resulting from their own poor choices in life. Still, the part of me that is not completely jaded wonders if there aren't at least a few there because of bad luck. It's always the nice ones that I wonder about.
And so I start to paint a picture of Big Grandpa's life in my head. Ex-GI. Comes back from the war and works as a manual laborer, doing construction. He enjoys his life, but never finds anyone to settle down with. For fun he drinks and eats until one day years of unhealthy eating and drinking take their toll on his body in the form of diabetes. With poor circulation caused by the disease, he's forced into a wheelchair and can't really work. Disability payments aren't enough to get by, so he eats at the soup kitchen...
"Hey sunshine! You gonna sit on your ass all day or dish up more meat loaf?"
I'm jolted out of my daydream by the sound of Gus yelling at me. I go back to work. Time passes and the rush eventually slows down. Later as I'm sweeping up in the kitchen, Lewis (another of the regular customers) comes back to talk to me.
"Say, can I get another sack lunch..." he asks.
"I already gave you two, Lewis."
"It ain't for me...It's for Babymaker."
"Who?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
"Babymaker!", he exclaims, a little annoyed. He points. "That dude...in the wheelchair."
I follow the line of his finger straight to Big Grandpa.
"Why do you call him that?", I ask, unsure if I want to really know the answer.
"Because he like to make babies. He got 18 kids running around!"
I hand Lewis the sack lunch and sit down. Another illusion shattered...
posted by n at 12:11 PM
2 Comments:
Thanks for the link to my blog!
Lobster Boy
Red Lobster Blog
Ours is an envionment where evil is perceived to be rewarded while good is punished. As with everything the Gods have a reason for creating this perception::::
People who fall on the good side of the good/evil scale have more favor, and when they do something wrong the Gods punish them BECAUSE THEY WANT THEM TO LEARN. The Gods want them to receive this feedback in hope they make corrections and begin to behave appropriately. The Gods DON'T like evil and refuse to grant this feedback.
EVERYBODY pays for what they do wrong, only evil people must wait until their next life before they will experience the wrath of the Gods, manifested in their reincarnation as a lower form of life into environments with increased/enhanced temptations.
Sadly, this allows the Gods to position this perception of evil rewarded as temptation, one which they use as an EXTREMELY effective corruptor.
Both Africa and the Medittereanean are regions which have sexual issues. This is a sign of morbid disfavor once you understand that females are the God's favored gender. Muhammad's (Mohammed's) polygamy halfway through his life as a prophet was preditory. Now a huge percentage of Muslims believes in male superiority and that the abuse of women is God's will. Female genital mutilation is still practiced in Africa. Black misogyny is the most eggregious example in the recent past.
Black member size is temptation to a predisposed population.
The patriarchal cancer spread throughout Europe because of Christianity, of which the majority of policy makers were Italian men. Expect the largest landowner in Europe and the continent's original superpower also played a major role in African slavery.
Militancy in Africa is consistant with the Iraqi example, as was slavery and the KKK here in America:::Fear enforces proper behavior. Without it we see what happens as a result of gross/morbid disfavor:::::AIDS, crack babies, dead young men in gangland retaliation killings. This is the purpose behind many black's historical tendancy towards resistance.
The same principle was true in Europe and throughout the world for centuries:::People whom lived under iron fists were conditioned to think the right way. As a result they experienced higher numbers of children ascend into heaven because they were taught to think and behave appropriately, which they passed on to their children. Our preditory envionment of "freedom" was the primary purpose the Gods had when implimenting this strategy that is the United States, one which they used to spred the cancer of democracy and westernization throughout the world. And the Gods use this tool that is America to prey on the disfavored both at home and abroad:::Much like the ghetto, America in general experiences a heightened level of temptation due to the people's disfavor.
Even the Old Testiment is not to be taken literally, but the Gods do offer clues throughout to help the disfavored:::The apple is a tool of temptation used to corrupt Adam and Eve and cast them out of the Garden of Eden.
There is another lesson to be learned from this passage, and it is quite similar to the vailing issue and the discourse over women's attire which ultimately died in the 70s:::Women are responsible for and control the fate of mankind.
Make the decision to always be good and never look back. Until you do this technology will employ tactics to test your resolve:::Ridicule, beligerance, doubt and refusal to abandon what people perceive to be their "investment".
Pray daily. Think appropriately. Too many are confident, unaware of the God's awesome powers or their status as antients. Others may fall prey to their positioning.
Be humbled, God-fearing and beware of the God's temptations, for everyone is tested to evaluate their worthiness.
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