literally another aussie in london

jrod helps the homeless part 2

I move back into the kitchen, and help the head cook, which is when the skinny old woman with the beanie, and no known title, comes in to make sure we have something for the vegetarians.

Vegetarians?

This isn’t a restaurant lady, they is homeless, they take what they can get.

No, not even a little bit, one is a Muslim, so can’t eat Pork, and two others are vegetarians.

I can’t decide what is worse, someone who, even though they are on the street, still holds onto an ancient ruling about pigs, or the two wankers who won’t eat what ever they are given because they don’t like meat.

I decide the vegetarians, but only just.

The head cook is flummaxed by this development, but it isn’t that hard to handle, they just don’t get the bolognaise, and get more vegetables, problem solved.

It’s the cooking time of the food, so there is little to do, so the head cook and I start chatting, against my better judgement.

She asks why she hasn’t seen me in church, I tell her its because I’m not a Christian. “Not a Christian, why not, not baptised?” “Not baptised, don’t believe in god, don’t like religion, etc”.

Yes I actually said etcetera, not sure why.

Somehow through all that she only hears, not baptised. “Why you not baptised, are your parent’s not Christian,” “Well my mum is, or was, but I suppose they thought I would grow up and choose my own religion”.

She seems very confused by this, she then asks me how I found out about the church, I tell her that a guide told me about it, she goes to the church, and sings in the choir. She asks which one, so I explain it to her the Sri Lankan with the curly hair, “Oh yes, the mixed race one”, “Um no, she is Sri Lankan”.

Then a woman comes into the kitchen, she is short and round, and is wearing something that has been slaughtered, maybe a panther, or a giant Tasmanian devil. The head cook can’t wait to tell her, “Gary (idiot, my name was written down) is not a Christian”, the woman who is wearing what is left of an animal say, “He is here helping the needy, he has good in his heart, that is all God wants”.

That seemed to put an end to it, even if I heard the head cook say “yes, the mixed race one in the choir”.

From then on in various people came into the kitchen, for no real reason, and they were all told I was not a Christian, one asked “If you are a Christian, why are you helping?”, “ I didn’t realise you needed to be a Christian to help people”.

It should have got better from there, the cat was out of the bag, I was not a Christian, and I knew mixed race people.

It didn’t. The forewoman needed me for something, and came in and said “sorry, what is your name again”, “Jarrod”, “Oh that is right, why can’t you have a simple name like Frank or Paul”.  I looked around the room at that moment, there were 5 women from Africa, only one had a name that by any account was simpler than Jarrod, and I would say that if Jarrod is not a simple name, you should donate your tongue to science.

Around this time the majority of the homeless people turned up, and let me start by saying, these were snappy dressing homeless people.

Mostly early 20s, cool looking, not drugged out or starving, in fact until you got near them, you didn’t know they were homeless. By get near them, I do mean they were a bit stinky, but no worse than me on the way home from indoor cricket.

They were also very nice, polite, calm, and good to deal with. Although to be fair I was comparing them to the Christians, so they were always going to look good in comparison.

The ethnic balance of the homeless was interesting. Muslim, Sub Asian, West Indian, African, Polish, Irish, American and if I was not mistaken, one was left handed.

There were even two girls, both cute. All I could think was that if I was a cute girl I’d never be homeless, I’d be a hooker. These girls obviously had more morals than me, more fool them.

TBC…

March 10, 2009 Posted by Jrod | living in london | christians, food, homeless | 3 Comments