There was an old guy around 82ish that we called the “Rev”. He had a long beard, gnarled hands, walked with a bit of a hunch, and always carried a bible. Sometimes he preached fire and brimstone. Everyone in the line was very tolerant of his outbursts. For several years, every day, he walked up the hill and a couple of blocks from the Morrison and stood in line for a lunch. He always asked for 7 lunches and told us he was taking them to the “old guys” down at the shelter because they couldn’t make it up the hill. So every day I gave him seven lunches…
One day of the guys in line said to me, “Queen B (by this time my nickname had changed) do you know what that old man does with those lunches?” I told him I did know. That he took the lunches to the “older than 80 men” that could not make it to the meal site. He started hooting and laughing and everyone that could hear were shaking their heads and grinning at me…I stood there waiting for his laughter to subside so he could fill me in on the joke. When he finally contained himself he said, “That old man doesn’t give the lunches to them… he sells the lunches to them; for $3 each!!!
Hmmm… 7 x 3…$21 dollars a day. The “Rev” was an entrepreneur!