William Lee Wei 🔪 Billy Rocks (throwslashstab) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2017-07-10 00:00:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | julius weaver, william lee wei |
Who: William Lee and Julius Weaver
What: While some people are out celebrating Independence Day, others are helping people that need it the most.
When: Backdated to July 4th, afternoon
Where: P.S. 175 Henry H Garnet, Harlem
The turnout of volunteers today had been good. Of the people they were intending to help, even better? William was glad. It would have been a giant misstep to suggest funding this charity event to a new employer only to have it blow up in his face by no one turning up. Thankfully, his luck had held out and he had been busily cooking lunches for the hundreds of homeless youths that would be turning up since the morning. It was actually a very exciting opportunity, even though they weren’t cooking anything exceptional, he was still in charge of a large number of cooks, more than he had typically had working for him at La Caille. Definitely more than he was in charge of currently. Being a personal chef was fine, but he didn’t have a brigade any more and he missed that camaraderie. It was refreshing to have one at the moment.
Though this had started as a small event, it had gained traction among both the people it was intended to help, and the wider community. Many people seemed to want to do something charitable over the holiday, but either couldn’t afford to give up their time, or simply didn’t want to. They had an area taking in donations of clothing, food and other essentials which would either be distributed today, or taken back to the Ali Forney Center to sort through before being packaged up for those that needed it most. In another area, subtly separate from everything else staff were taking monetary donations. That had been organised last minute after friends and business ties of his boss had turned up to donate, probably only to show they were just as progressive as the next rich white man.
Even with the situations that these young people found themselves in, there was a party atmosphere going on that denied entry to the hardship and pain that they normally suffered through. That, coupled with the knowledge that he wasn't the only one willing to help was enough of a payoff. Even so, he selfishly wanted to get out from the kitchen and take a short walk around to see how his handiwork had paid off. It may have been a school, but they’d done everything in their power to fit it out like an actual restaurant. Albeit a vaguely hipster looking restaurant. None of the furniture matched, it was all borrowed from various sources and the walls were draped varyingly in cloth, graffiti artwork, or wooden screens. It wasn’t his ideal aesthetic, but whatever made it seem less like a soup kitchen and like these kids lives meant something. He smiled wryly at himself, already referring to young people as kids. He was definitely going to be old before his time at this rate.
William stopped by a couple of tables, checking on their customers and ensuring their meals were as they had hoped, threading his way through the room to get a moment near the door. Even with windows open and fans on everywhere, as a chef, it was hard to escape the heat of a kitchen. A cool breeze from outside would be something akin to heaven.