Mercury came into its own this morning as ruler of cars and short trips and the Moon excelled itself representing motherly women and food. It was the day of the fund-raising enchilada dinner (lunch, really, or considering the time of the earliest requests, breakfast) for the Silver Stompers' Jamboree next year, and my contribution was to make deliveries. I was working with DQ, a fellow Stomper/line dancer. She was to drive and I was to hop in and out of the van with the deliveries. We met at 9:45 in the parking lot of the long-closed Long John Silver at the bottom of Little Walnut Road, where I left the Volvo and got in her whatever-it-is she drives.
When we arrived at the Knights of Columbus meeting Hall on Swan, five minutes away, it was obvious we were much too early. A cooking station had been set up in each corner of the hall, each manned (womanned?) by five Stompers: one frying tortillas, one putting in the filling and dipping them in red sauce, one working the egg
station, one at the pinto beans and one making sure the correct number of bags of bread, salad, dessert and silverware accompanied each order.
We knew they'd been there since six am and kept a respectful distance till summoned, when we took four orders to the Daily Press and six to Syzygy Tileworks, which I've never been able to pronounce and was glad I didn't have to, just walk in with the cardboard box and say "Who's hungry?" Back to the hall, four orders to J.D. Feed and two to SA Electronics, and we were done for the day, feeling only a little guilty at leaving all the clean up to the ones who'd been cooking all morning. The aspect perfected at 11:21 and I was back home sweeping up Juniper berries by noon. You just can't make this up.
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