drop off day

I spent most of yesterday wandering around Pleasant Valley looking for work. The ones in charge here dropped off J (a girl who loves "What the Bleep. . .?"), S (a young 18), and I and told us to find work. So we started door-knocking, asking people if they had any chores we could help them with for free.

Unsurprisingly, people were a bit wary of three kids in matching purple T-shirts asking to mow their lawn.

I was nearly mauled by a crazy dalmatian.

We did find one family willing to take us up on it. We picked green beans for 45 minutes and they served us lunch. After eating lunches that cost less than $0.75 per person for the past week, potato chips, root beer, and swiss cheese had never tasted so good.

No one else wanted our labor. We offred to polish the fire trucks at the volunteer fire station and were turned down.

And the whole thing was supposed to teach us that it is hard to serve, that the people that we think need help might not, or any other trite service-related truism you could name.