Love Your Bum!
February 16th, 2007, by Hilko
I don’t care much for this Valentine, because I couldn’t think of someone to send anything to. Rather unfortunate, as I have a number of ‘hilarious’ Valentine gift ideas, and I’m just waiting for the right person to come along and be, eh, blessed by them.
For example, there’s the card with a picture of the rear end of a cow, with the words “I Love You…” on it. The inside would say: “…from the heart of my bottom”. Yeah, I’m a romantic…
Tasteless jokes aside (title included), this year’s Valentine was quite special: together with some friends, I volunteered to help at a big party for the homeless in Amsterdam, organized by the Salvation Army. I wasn’t entirely sure where it was held exactly, but fortunately for me, homeless people are quite conspicuous. Once I arrived at Amsterdam’s Central Station, I just followed the stream of loud, crass, shabby, but generally friendly and quite excited bum-folks.
After initially being mistaken for a homeless person myself (Well, at least I didn’t ‘over-dress’), I was quickly and efficiently put to work. Basically, there were rotating shifts of tasks, and my first duty was to stand at the reception desk, collect coats and bags, and give out numbers to the guests. The local homeless expert (a Salvation Army employee) explained that the guests in question would most likely spend much of the evening pickpocketing each other, and taking their coats was as much for their own safety as it was a service provided to them.
My next task was to stand guard at the door to the equipment room, together with Sander. This was rather boring, but it did present the oppertunity for this Very Artistic photo.
I switched shifts a few more times, and had some very interesting conversations with ‘cast and crew’, among whom were some rotarians who were quick to assure me that they were not as rich as they are popularly portrayed. Them not arriving in a Rolls-Royce didn’t fool me though! Anyways, next, it was time for the cake-cutting ceremony. We divided the five large and delicious cakes into small pieces (’misplacing’ some delicious marzipan roses that adorned them in the process), and then distributed them among the guests.
After some cider, well, carbonated apple juice actually, strict Salvation Army policy and all, there was much dancing and general partying going on, until about eleven. All this heartwarming sentimentality was briefly broken up by an incident in the lobby. One of the early-leaving vagabondettes turned hostile when she gave us her ‘ticket’, and received a shabby coat that wasn’t hers. Hers was blue. And warm. And very, very dear to hear. Plus, she’d freeze to death without it. After considerable effort to calm her down (which included giving her my last, and very precious cigarette), we went through the coat-racks a billion times - with no results. Eventually, it turned out her coat wasn’t blue, but black, and it was hanging right next to the ‘wrong’ coat…
As the remaining dancing drifters slowly drifted back to their non-homes in Amsterdam, it was time to clean the mess. Finally, at around twelve, it was time to go home. As we strolled through the brightly colored corridor, I reflected on the evening. There had been no love at first sight with one of the sweet, rotten-toothed bums, and I hadn’t done much beside ‘volunteering’ (Naturally, I’d have been king of the dance floor otherwise!). On the bright side, I still had my wallet, and I helped in giving homeless people a fun evening. Also, the cake was great.
It was a good Valentine!