One of our volunteer opportunities was cooking dinner for a local organization called Samaritan Inns.
My team and I were responsible for preparing a dinner for the guests living at the Inn--an entree, a vegetable, a salad, and a dessert. The day beforehand, I realized that we should probably prepare something. After scouring the internet for a possible recipe to cook in bulk for 20+ people, I finally just took the advice of my sister and decided on chili.
My teammates and I got our ingredients at the grocery store and proceeded to lug our packed environmentally-friendly bags to the Inn. Eventually.
First, we accidentally went 6 blocks in the wrong direction after getting off the metro.
The humidity that afternoon was especially oppressive. I could feel drop by drop slowly sneak down my back. The sweat clinging to my forehead warned of future acne. I needed to frequently switch arms carrying my grocery bag.
We agreed as a group that the building just had to be farther away than the four blocks that we had been promised.
The promised land soon arrived however...annnnd the door was locked. We were about an hour early and no one answered the phone. One of our group stayed stationed at the door while the rest of us fled across the street to the gas station to get beverages.
I guzzled my entire gatorade in about 5 minutes flat.
We were let into the building and set up camp in our new kitchen.
At one point in the cooking process we needed to open the cans. Unfortunately we couldn't find a can opener anywhere. Befuddled, we couldn't understand how a soup kitchen could not be stocked with a can opener. We asked the Inn representative where it was and she pointed us at this large contraption attached to the counter.
The chili ended up pretty dang good if I do say so myself.
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