Getting back into public service

This is a long story and I just drank enough coffee to shit outta my eye-sockets (SQUEEZE!!!) soooo..... here'gos

I used to work for (what a joke) CITY YEAR. Sheeit, the only funnier than that place was the time that tiger killed that guy at the SanFran Zoo a while back. Anyways, part of my service year with them was obligated to work at a place called MANNA. Named after a legendary rain-fall in the desert that saved the Hebrews from starvation after their Exodus, MANNA is a kitchen dedicated to collecting, preparing and delivering food to bed-ridden AIDS survivors. I've worked in kitchens and bars all accross the country and I'm great driver but, put together with my CITY YEAR/AMERICORE experience, I found myself there alot. I loved it there. I felt like I was right were I was supposed to be particularly since this was way before Afropunk I tended to surround myself with a huge diversity of, well, pretty much anybody who was cool with me and my issues. Everyone there was amazing. working with a reason. Old people bagging lunches. Cats from half-way houses doing some community service hours. All types and all colors and creeds just volunteering to help people do more than just servive. I remember back on 9-11, when the buildings fell and my job sent me home, I ran straight to MANNA to help out cause for one reason or another I thought most folks would be going home. Nope, everyone kept working. *sigh....insert heart-symbol*

Anyways, I loved that place but, I'll get to the point. One of my favorite people there was a little boy, 6 maybe 7 y/o, who was always there working. His mother worked in the office and she would just kinda let him run around the joint. After awhile everyone just kinda put him to work and he sucked everything up like the little info-sponges kids that age tend to be and they shine like stars showing off what they know....... eventhough it's little incorrect most of the time but, they're stars and love them along and you teach and they learn and you teach and they learn. at one point though I wondered why this kid wasn't AT FUCKING SCHOOL LIKE ALL THE OTHER KIDS!?!? WHAT THE FUCK??! I wished for a second I was aloud to skip school EVERY DAY back in my kinder-years!! So I took a little walk over to the office department and have chat with young'boys Mom. She dropped a bomb on me. It turned out the kid was born HIVpositive..........so I went back to the kitchen and kept working......barely.

Long story short I got REALLY depressed and had to leave. I didn't go back....ever.
What's up with GOD? It was like some kinda divine screw-up in paper work. "Okay, we put the 'life and future' in the 'infant' pile. We put the 'doom' in the 'asshole and rapist' pile..........whoops." I got really mad at everything and got a touch more nihilistic. At any rate, I never got into public service again and that was that.

So last night, ten years later, me and a friend of mine were doing my favorite thing: getting drunk and flirting with hood-rats. I ended up kickin' it with this older chick who was trying to get in my pants and I was helping her. When we starting talking about "sooooo what do you do?" she told me she was a addict case worker. I asked her how she could do that shit? Seriously. She really re-opened my eyes.
"No matter what, everyone is born with a porpose."
We got all into the whole "what are you doing with your life?" rap for a few hours. If I didn't have such a dendancy to seperate intamacy from intellect I woulda fucked her right on the goddamn bar but, eh.
So I'm going back to MANNA on Monday. I don't know why and I do at the same time. Ijust have to bury that beast at keep on truckin' after it's dead.


What have ya'll done in public service?
Battle scars?
Songs of victory?