The Drop Inn...

Eyes darting, right to left, up then down. Repeat. Immediately the tension was in the air. We'd crossed the line, in an unknown, unfamiliar, uncomfortable environment. The body language, the whispers, the overall atmosphere told all of us who walked in from the unbearable cold that they immediately became uncomfortable.

"This way, this way. You'll be serving the meals over here. We will need four of you: one for the water, ravioli, the salad, then the bread. Put on the gloves. You have to serve starting around 6:20," a man with a stocking cap on top of his head said.

Alright. Well things worked out that I was the bread girl. Good thing? Bad thing? Who knows. Regardless, I was there. I swear those were some of the most challenging minutes of the entire nights. We all looked around still not quite sure how to weigh out the situation. Tick, tick, tick. The time just would not pass by.

Out of nowhere I heard someone yell out over what looked like a congregation gathered for an early Sunday morning mass. Immediately, they started flocking towards us. Ready or not, here they came.

Setting out individually wrapped pieces of bread was a first for me. An entire tub full of bread seemed more than enough to feed everyone gathered at the Inn that night. I started setting out the bread on the tray, allowing the people passing by to have the choice to pick the best piece of bread.

Plastered on my face a smile. Maybe I was too afraid not to smile because if I stopped, I'd get too caught up in what was actually going on. The wave of homelessness/need/guilt would swallow me whole, making me feel sorry for them when really that was the last thing they needed.

"One or two," they would say. On the spot, I looked at Jack. "Umm, I think just one," I replied. Their face told me one slice was not enough. When is one ever enough?

"Keep moving, keep moving! I said KEEP MOVING!" My eyes darted to the other side of the room. Two men were yelling at one another. Apparently one man was eating too slowly and the other wanted to sit down and eat at that exact spot even though multiple seats were open. The security guard came over, the same security guard that I thought wasn't real. I thought he was a phony because I thought he found the old security coat he wore on his back.

Words were flying, attention was drawn and out he went, head pointed down to the ground not ready to bear the cold night's air.

The time did pass by quickly. The face started to become friendlier, maybe I'd get a thank you or two. I started getting more and more looks as the night went on, that was for sure. With almost all of the people being males, they all were extremely happy to have female presence in the room. It wasn't until one younger guy in particular became overbearing, in my opinion, that I started to regret smiling.

The few women who were there brought with them a mix of emotions. More than anything, they wanted me to hand them the bread. They didn't want to have the choice; they wanted me to make it for them. It made me think about their previous relationships. Could these women have been in abusive relationships.

The one women that caught my eye was wearing blue eye shadow; she was the only woman wearing any make up as far as I could tell. I was so caught up in the color blue that it made me wonder if she put a lot of thought into what color she wore on her eyes or if she just put on whatever she could find in the single plastic bag she carried.

From the old squeaky chairs that the workers folded up after dinner to the signs that covered colorless/lifeless walls, the Inn offered all these people something. What that something is might change from person to person, but it offered a type of consistency for each person that walked though its doors. Regardless of the mistakes people make in their lives or the guilt each one feels on an almost daily basis, the Inn offers warmth and a meal. The warmth might be limited and the food not especially appetizing, but all the people know that the Inn is always somewhere they can turn and possibly even sparking a type of optimism in those who go searching for it.