Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Feb 23, 2012 15:46:35 GMT -5
It was one of those rare days when all the boys showed up at work and they sent Lestrade home because he wasn't needed. It always made him feel somewhat disappointed, even though he knew he should be happy he didn't need to work. But feeling of being unneeded wasn't something he dealt with very easily, and so somehow he ended up spending the day at the local soup kitchen helping out.
It was a bit strange, and he knew it. But he reconciled with himself by saying that helping out the poor and homeless was a better means of something to do than, say, taking recreational stimulation. The people there were mostly grateful, too, and so it was almost as gratifying as being a cop. Perhaps more so, since, well, being the police dealt with dead people. This dealt with making sure there weren’t more dead people.
The morning flew by, because believe it or not, dishing out soup to strangers is a lot more entertaining that one would think. Besides, Lestrade liked being around people, even if they weren’t speaking. The presence of other human beings was one of the things that kept him grounded. It was nearly half past one when his own stomach began to rumble.
The person in charge told him he could take a lunch break, which he accepted happily. He dished himself out some soup, because there was no point in buying food when it was already here, even if it wasn’t the highest of quality, and sat down at a table where there was only one other person. He wondered if somebody knew saw him, and what they would think if they did. He didn’t look like he suddenly needed to rely on the city to provide him food – he was wearing a button down shirt and perfectly clean – so it was unlikely that anybody would pin him down as homeless. Still, he was sitting at a table surrounded by far dirtier men and women, and so he wondered if his cleanliness might be overlooked.
He looked over at the person across from him, and decided he might as well make some conversation. Whether or not the person was up for it – a starving, grumpy homeless might not be the best person to chat with – he was slightly apprehensive to find out.
“Hello,” he said, smiling. “What’s your name?” It was a rather childish sounding thing to say, but he hadn’t really thought anything through today, and so just let it go. No need to worry over things that didn’t need to be worried over.
It was a bit strange, and he knew it. But he reconciled with himself by saying that helping out the poor and homeless was a better means of something to do than, say, taking recreational stimulation. The people there were mostly grateful, too, and so it was almost as gratifying as being a cop. Perhaps more so, since, well, being the police dealt with dead people. This dealt with making sure there weren’t more dead people.
The morning flew by, because believe it or not, dishing out soup to strangers is a lot more entertaining that one would think. Besides, Lestrade liked being around people, even if they weren’t speaking. The presence of other human beings was one of the things that kept him grounded. It was nearly half past one when his own stomach began to rumble.
The person in charge told him he could take a lunch break, which he accepted happily. He dished himself out some soup, because there was no point in buying food when it was already here, even if it wasn’t the highest of quality, and sat down at a table where there was only one other person. He wondered if somebody knew saw him, and what they would think if they did. He didn’t look like he suddenly needed to rely on the city to provide him food – he was wearing a button down shirt and perfectly clean – so it was unlikely that anybody would pin him down as homeless. Still, he was sitting at a table surrounded by far dirtier men and women, and so he wondered if his cleanliness might be overlooked.
He looked over at the person across from him, and decided he might as well make some conversation. Whether or not the person was up for it – a starving, grumpy homeless might not be the best person to chat with – he was slightly apprehensive to find out.
“Hello,” he said, smiling. “What’s your name?” It was a rather childish sounding thing to say, but he hadn’t really thought anything through today, and so just let it go. No need to worry over things that didn’t need to be worried over.
OOC: Person who replies can be homeless or someone else working there, whatever works.
[/center][/b][/i] 