Throughout my working career I have often found myself in situations and places where I would never, of my own free will, have chosen to be.
There was the time myself and two other people took a group of eight special needs people to a dinner dance in Larne. All was going well until Jeannie, an epileptic, took a turn that caused her to fall face-first into her turkey dinner. While our attention was diverted Lucy, who needed to be closely supervised whilst eating, stuffed so much food into her mouth that she started choking and needed the Heimlich manoeuvre employed. Meanwhile, Jeannie recovered, got the gravy and mash washed off her face, and daintily continued to eat her meal. Yet another successful outing where we brought eight out alive and returned them in the same condition.
There have been Christmas parties held by well-meaning church groups where the guest of honour was the minister. With her remarkable talent for identifying VIPs Lisa (Down Syndrome) pulled up her sweatshirt to reveal her Do You Think I’m Sexy? Tee shirt and then treated the reverend to an impromptu lap dance.
What about a two-hour concert given by the African Children’s Choir? Those kids could certainly sing but it was still hymns. Ten minutes of that would have satisfied me.
Oh, I could go on. But I have always consoled myself that I was getting paid, and well-paid, for my attendance at these outings and dos.
But I’d have needed a lot more than the minimum wage to feel better about the service I attended last night. Up rolled the righteous in their Mercedes and Jags and suddenly the place was filled with good-livin’ folk who previously had only been names to me, names usually seen on the frontage of a number of Big Shops in the local area. So it was that I stood on my aching back legs for an hour of hymns and preaching directed at the captive audience contained within the Near At Hand Home for People Filled with Brotherly Love.
There could be no cheerier way to spend an evening than reminding the elderly that their time is rapidly running out.
And all for the minimum wage too.
4 comments:
How deadly.
Yes indeedy. Manuel might suggest that you should have said the Rosary to protect yourself from the well-meaning folk with big cars.
I did nearly make the sign of the cross at the end.
Ah, agency work... I got my face painted for Children In Need Day, by one of the clients at a Day Centre I work at. Spent half my earnings for the day on getting the damned stuff off again... Still better than hymns though...
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