When I do what ever I am assigned to do while volunteering at the soup kitchen. I tend to be full of smiles and loaded with compliments. Very often I can be heard loud and clear. "Good Morning Sunshine" or "Well don't you look refreshing on this fine afternoon" I do this not just because it creates a nice atmosphere. But also because I am genuinely a nice guy. And my smile is sincere. And I like to spread the joy even in a time that may be less then pleasant.
In my last few blogs I have mentioned the "fat bastard" on the handicapped scooter that tends to get under my skin. I question his need for this scooter based on my observations of him jumping off and literally running for pieces of pie or shortcakes that sometimes come to the kitchen as a treat to it's patrons. And even more, he will stop at nothing to get to them. I have witnessed him pushing over people. Ramming into feeble old ladies with his 4 wheel excuse with out any sort of warning or simple "excuse me". No he does not care what is in his way. He just accelerates and goes.
Last night I witnessed him stealing bowls of peanut butter. The "condiments" are usually transfered into bowls with a spoon to avoid being stolen. But this lard of a man took three or four bowls and put them right into the basket of his scooter and revved out the door. And if that was not enough!!!!!!!!! The next morning I was assigned to stand at the counter where every one brings the trays and plates and bowls and I feed them into the machine that apparently cleans them...Now here comes this fucker with his dirty empty bowls from last night. I could not react. There was nothing I could do. I felt like flopping on the floor. (a good example of this is a Cambell's soup commercial where a man is sitting at his computer working when his wife yells "lunch is ready" the man falls to the floor and appears unable to use any of his muscles and then looks like he is dragged ALL THE WAY to the lunch setting of soup when a fully dressed chef appears in the door way announcing that it is OK because the soup now contains sea salt!! I tried to find it on You tube but could not) Any how it is exactly how I feel when I cant believe how a movie has ended. Or something upsetting like that. I just want to release all of my muscles flop to the floor, and give up.
I could not resist. "Hey" I said to him. "why did you steal the peanut butter last night?" "Fuck you" he says back. I stare him down. I decide I must take action against this selfish inconsiderate bastard I now have named Jaba. I will if it kills me...spit on his next platter...sneeze on it...or better yet...use my dandruff weapon ...remove my hat and casually massage my scalp over his next platter of Shepard's Pie. After that I will find a way to disable his scooter. Force him to walk. I will prevail! And just then my horrid evil feeling were confirmed as he sped off and nicked 3 people with the basket on the front of his scooter to get in line for his breakfast.
It did not take very long for my opportunity to present it self. He is generally the last to leave the soup kitchen (of course) picking up scraps and stealing more condiments...filling empty soda bottles with coffee and milk...and so on. So I took up post outside smoking...waiting for the bastard to exit. I still was not sure what I was going to do. But, I knew I felt crazily secure in doing it. I happened to look down at my nap sack and see the out line of my rather sharp scissors. The ones I use to trim the little flat of hair on my chin I call I Goat Tee. And just as luck would have it he came out the door. and stopped with his back towards me less then a foot a way. I spent all of about 30 seconds trying to talk my self out of anything I was thinking. But, I couldn't stop myself. Before I knew it I had the scissors out. And I proceeded to stab the two back tires of his scooter. They quickly deflated. But he did not even notice. He just zoomed off with the two back rims whistling in tune with the sea gulls. I quickly came up behind him. "Hey, your tires have gone flat!" He just ignored me and kept going. I felt better now. That afternoon I saw him walking unnecessarily with a walker towards a taxi cab. I can't tell you the joy I felt as I sneered from the window of Starbucks writing this blog. Even as I try to feel remorse all I have to do is think of the peanut butter. And it just fades away. I wonder how much it cost's to replace 2 tires on a scooter? I wonder if his fraudulent disability claim will cover it? I hope that it does not. And I hope it cost's him his entire disability check that he probably got that same day.
I thought for sure this crime would be traced back to me and I would be told I could no longer volunteer at the soup kitchen. But it seems no one has even noticed. I will say however. The other patrons sure do not miss being bashed into by Jaba the Nut!!
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