Carleton has this club called Meal Exchange. They were in charge of doing Trick or Eat, which is the equivalent to Halloween for Hunger. It sounds like a good cause. They sound pretty legit so I decided to go with them to the Ottawa Mission. Biggest mistake ever!
These people are WEIRD! I should've seen it coming from the beginning. I went to their office where we were supposed to meet and it's this tiny little room with a precarious divider acting as a temporary wall down the middle. This huge girl named Tabitha looks up at me with her dopey face when I ask if I'm in the right place. She gets up (which took a lot of effort) and she shakes my hand. That doesn't seem too bad, right? Wrong! I know people are supposed to have firm handshakes but this one was bone-crushing! I had to check to make sure I was still smiling as I tried to inconspicuously pry my hand out of hers. She tells me to sit on this old squishy couch, which was covered in bags filled with loaves of bread and jars of peanut butter and jam.
About 10 minutes go by. This guy comes in and Tabitha seems to know him. He largely ignores me and starts talking about how much he hates first years.
Excerpt from bitter guy: "I hate all the random little first years running for election. Who are you? Get out! They don't even know anything about the system and they think" [cue high pitched, squeaky annoying voice] "I was president of student government in high school. Now I'm going to be super involved in university! Yay!" [back to normal-pitched annoying voice] "Ugh! I hate them all! I'm not voting for any of them. I laughed in one girl's face when she asked me to sign her nominations board. Please, like I'm really going to vote for you."
At this point in his lively rant, he turns and sees me, puts on fake cheery face and says, "Oh hi there! I didn't see you! I'm Andrew." Extends hand for handshake.
I wipe off the look of disgust and shake his hand while mumbling "Veronica." in a less than ecstatic voice. And I couldn't believe it. Twice in 10 minutes! He has a bone-crushing handshake too! Who are these people!? Why do they hate fingers?
We start heading out to the bus stop and I just follow along quietly. Tabitha and Andrew continue to swap stories about every crappy thing that happened to them in the past 24 hours. For people who are supposed to be helping the helpless, you'd think they'd lighten up a little. Another volunteer who seems to know Tabitha and Andrew comes to join us. His name is Daniel.
We finally get to Byward Market and we're moving along at a brisk walk. Andrew confidently leads us into a building clearly marked Salvation Army. I think to myself, "That's funny. I didn't know the Ottawa Mission was the same as the Salvation Army." But I didn't question. I really didn't want to trigger another rant from the Hitler of first-years. Yeesh.
We're sitting around in the lobby for a good 20 minutes. Tabitha's been on and off the phone with two other people who are supposed to meet us. They're the executive members of the club and yet we don't see them anywhere. It turns out we're in the wrong shelter. Big surprise. We walk out shamefully with our bags of food while a group of homeless people stare at us as they lean against the side of the Salvation Army. We're feeling wonderful at this point.
After several narrow alleyways, we finally get to the Ottawa Mission. There I meet Allison! and Mumblemumble! That's actually how they say their names, loud and chipper like it comes with exclamation marks. We all sit around a table with the food we brought and we wait for the volunteer coordinator to come out. She does eventually and goes on a very long explanation of everything the Ottawa Mission does. I get bored and focus on the two pigeons attacking each other outside the window. At first I thought they were fighting but I actually think they were busy making baby pigeons. There's the Discovery channel for you.
The long explanation eventually ends and we start making sandwiches. That part was okay. It was kind of fun actually. We made so many sandwiches. I think we used up 10 loaves of bread. It was great! Who doesn't like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? The real sketchiness starts after we start cleaning up.
I'm finishing up the last of my sandwiches when Mumblemumble! picks up one of the end pieces from the bag of bread. "I'm so hungry!" she says. And she starts spreading peanut butter and jelly on the end piece and she eats it! I think my jaw actually dropped. She's stealing from the poor? Seriously?! I know no one likes the end pieces but I've just been making sandwiches out of them anyway because I'm pretty sure the hungry poor will still want to eat them.
Mumblemumble! must have seen me staring at her because then she offers me one! She actually reached into the bag and offers me a sandwich! I said in a rather disgusted voice, "No thanks. This is for the poor." She shrugs and starts making another sandwich! I couldn't believe it! And you know what everyone else does? They JOIN her! They all start munching away on the last pieces! I was disgusted.
I start cleaning up. I gather up all the leftover jars of peanut butter and jelly and I take them into the kitchen to donate them. Or at least I try. Tabitha reaches over, grabs a jar of peanut butter and says, "I think I'm going to keep this! I'm out of peanut butter anyway." And this was after she said everything was on sale at the grocery store.
These people disgust me. I'm never volunteering with them again.
To top it all off, they left me to fend for myself and find my own way back from the Ottawa Mission. I asked Daniel for directions to the Rideau Centre. He says he's going there too so he says, "I'll walk you there." Great. This means I won't get lost. We're walking along at a good place when suddenly, he points off into the distance and says, "There. The Rideau Centre's right there. See ya." And he books it! He just runs away! He ran across an intersection and left me! He's so bizarre. I just kind of wandered off in the direction he pointed out in a bit of a daze.
Common denominator: These people are all in third year. I met a lot of people here at school but they're all either first, second, or fourth year. Third years have just disappeared. Now I know where they all are. They live in a private room in hell together, stealing from the poor and sharing bitter stories. Good riddance.
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