I love my job, but that doesn't stop it from having moments where I feel like I've woken up in the middle of a Stephen King novel.
Witness today. We have an event coming up which requires registration. Some people don't want to go online, so they send in registration forms.
A volunteer is tying away, putting these into excel, and he says, "Um."
He says, "I think you should look at this. The Rev. V.V. Bright the Second (not his real name, but yes, he filled in Rev. --- the Second) has written some more information on his registration form for you. Other than his name and contact information."
Keep in mind, it’s from an adult, but he lists “SAIF” (our state worker's comp insurance company) under
By the word “walk” he writes, “Olympics, too?”
In the line for a donation, he writes “LOVE.”
And some other stuff we can’t read…
Times like this I can't decide if it's a joke or real. Or, as my friend K suggested, the result of lots of marijuana.
But last year, someone signed up for an event with the first name of a major city and the last name that means the equivalent of stinky. So we'll call her St. Paul Stinky. I thought that must be a prank until I found out this was a real person who volunteered at one of our chapters.
This year her sister signed up the entire family and called their team - wait for it - the Stinky Family.
I suppose that's better than the Stinky Feet.
And no, I am not making any of this up! I'm not that creative. Maybe I would be after lots of marijuana, but that's not my bag.