My mother and I volunteer at the food pantry quite often (at very least once a month, sometimes every week). Most of the people going through for food are nice; contrary to some people's beliefs, they aren't bums. Most of them have jobs; those who don't are either looking for one or disabled to the point that they can't have a job. A lot of said people would be able to support themselves, but they have families and so have to take the extra assistance. Which is fine; the majority are sweet people, and almost all are polite. Some of the volunteers really need to learn lessons from them.
Lately, there hasn't been enough food. The supplies are coming in less frequently, and the number of families has increased. We give them what we can, but sometimes that's not much at all. And some of the basics (bread, pasta, meats, fruits) are almost always scanty or missing entirely. We do what we can; most of the volunteers buy extra supplies, the churches (it is run by four local Catholic churches - which, before any anti-religous zealots start complaining, means that they take collections for it, pay the rent for the building, and we invariably get a rush of Conformation hours seeking kids volunteering for about a month. That's as far as the religious influences go) have taken up extra collections, and we've gotten some connections with local businesses. Still, everything doesn't go as planned - for instance, the other week someone stopped our connection with Panera Bread because they were giving sweet rolls, which aren't healthy. It's food, which is more important, but now it's not available for the people. Which is sad.
Anyway, there's a sweet old lady who goes out and buys bread for us every week. She also volunteers there; while she's not necessarily the sharpest tool in the shed, she really is sweet. She comes in every week, every month. There's a schedule of who's supposed to be in each week, but it's invariably changed and lacking. She's helpful.
In contrast, there's an older couple who volunteer whenever they're scheduled. Honestly, we're not sure why they come at all. My guess is that they're trying to rack up brownie points for the afterlife. The woman - Marsha dearest (actually, I don't know her name, but that's what I've called her for ages) - is rude, haughty, and a general brat. She'll refuse people who have children; she'll yell at any of the other volunteers. (No one likes her...) She also pushes other carts up and tells us to "hurry up!" Her husband is similar, but much quieter. He lives in her shadow. We don't get along well at all; I'm too stubborn to listen to her (she can't get me into any trouble, so why should I do anything she says? As it is, I'm well liked there, both amongst the other volunteers and the people coming through, simply because I try to be nice to everyone, whereas no one supports her, because she's nice to... no one), and I'll take through the people she turns away, push back the carts, and tell her when she's stepping out of line. They think they own the place; they don't like being told to back off. It's hard enough to get along with them under any circumstances, but lately they've started bringing their granddaughters in.
Now, their granddaughters (there are two of them) are a little older than I am. They're quite like their grandparents in terms of unpleasantness. Both of them are very into themselves (they make no secret of the fact that they think they're the best people in the building), rude to the people coming through (they think they're "bums"), and oh so snobby. They sit behind the desk and do their nails instead of checking people in; when they do check the people in, they don't ask for the information that's required. More than once I've had to ask them to either speed it up (there a ton of people waiting in the room, but I can't take any through until the paperwork is done) or slow it down (they're checking in people instead of waiting for anyone to take them through; the lines for the carts gets out of hand and the there are disagreements about who's next). They never listen (at least Marsha dearest listens, for reasons unbeknown to me); they openly scoff most of the time ("Why should we listen to you?" Because I've been doing this for over a year whereas you've only done it for less than a month? Because I know what I'm doing? Because you're causing problems? They're never impressed).
Anyway, last Saturday (it's open twice a week - Saturday mornings and Tuesday evenings), Marsha dearest and her family were there, as well as the sweet old lady from above. The granddaughters, as per their usual standard, did practically nothing behind the desk. At one point, T (sweet old lady) asked one of them how many people were in the family of the person she was taking through. The girl responded (scoff), "How should I know?" To which T replied, "You're supposed to ask." Which you are; that's one of the first things you do - what's your name and how many are in your family?
The girl turned around and complained to her grandfather, who then confronted T saying that his "granddaughter is very distraught over how you treated her" and she needed to stop coming in anyway; she was there too much (at least she's helpful, unlike some other volunteers I could name...). Then he went to the guy who actually is in charge of the food pantry and complained.
Like I said, T is sweet, and she's a good lady, but she's not the brightest. She couldn't really defend herself; the only other volunteer was working at the time and didn't know what was happening until afterwards. (Said other volunteer is a lady who's much like me in terms of attitude there; she's not hesitant to speak (well, yell) her mind. She's furious too.) Joe (the guy in charge) apologized to the granddaughter and told T to start staying away most days. So now not only are we short a much needed volunteer, we're also short another supply of bread. And the brat has been allowed to stay without warning. And the sweet old lady who has been so much help has been punished. It's absurd.
The other volunteer is planning to appeal to Joe once she's calmed down, but the damage has been done.
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"Nothing worth having is easy."
Three years!