This is the second part of a three part series about one day. Just making sure you knew. Anyway, we left off right when I arrived at the senior center…
I get out of my car and head toward more signs that point at a main entrance. While quietly walking under a sky that is slowly cracking with orange streaks, a woman passes me at a hurried pace. She says good morning, but kept walking probably too fast to hear my reply. She was wearing a hat. She was wearing a t-shirt. She was wearing shorts and flip-flops!
I was immediately transported back to my first day of Catholic high school. I was a transfer student and was so nervous about having a dress code that I wore my skirt so long that even the nuns refused to have lunch with me.
Back to the story. Waiting in line to check in I notice the check in table behind me was dedicated for media. Being a PR person and having manned that table so many times before causes me to take a long, hard look. The PR people were laughing, telling each other stories, sitting there, under a banner that read, “Media Check-in” with no one checking in. I figured the table was for the off-chance a reporter from the Neighbors section of the Herald showed. Seriously, what is so newsworthy about volunteering?
“I need you to sign this waiver releasing the non-profit of liability and this other form allowing The Walt Disney Corporation to film you,” said the person checking me in. It was, at this point, 7:10AM. I could have just given power of attorney over my bank account to Hand on Miami and applied for a Disney Store credit card. It would have been the same at that point.
I received a goodie bag, a wrist band and a t-shirt. The last time I went somewhere and was handed those three items I ended up in…well, that’s irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is that I was asked to put on the shirt immediately. I did, reluctantly. You see, I love event and/or corporate t-shirts. I use them as PJ’s. Having been a part of so many events, I haven’t bought pajamas in 10 years. With my sudden unemployment and the state of the economy, naturally, I wanted to preserve this shirt and not get paint all over it. Paint. Yes. I had signed up to paint benches.
Nice, freshly painted Benches, so the little old people would be able to sit by the River and hold hands, like a music video to a Natalie Merchant song.
I should have looked inside my goodie bag. If only I would have looked.
— To be continued —