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dumb story #2
Sep. 22nd, 2003 06:53 pmThis is turning out to be fun.
I have two SCOPE stories.
When I was about 15 or 16, my high school got involved with this program called SCOPE -- School Community Outreach Program for the Elderly. The idea behind it was that high school kids who do odd jobs for elderly and handicapped people who otherwise would not have been able to afford to hire someone.
It was only minimum-wage, for a few hours a week, but at 15 there weren't too many other jobs I could get. So I signed myself up and ended up working for them for a couple of years.
Most of the people I dealt with were real sweethearts -- there was the elderly man that I used to dust for because he was asthmatic and who always wanted me to sit down with him afterwards for tea and cookies. The woman who's husband had just had a heart attack and who could not herself drag the heavy mower up the steep hill of their lawn always brought me glasses of lemonade and asked me how classes where going. The elderly woman who was recovering from hip replacement surgery and who needed somebody to do her grocery shopping always wanted to tell me stories about her daughters who lived back in England.
Most of the kids in the program buggered off during the summer months, but my girlfriend and I stayed on.
( What I did on my summer vacation )
I have two SCOPE stories.
When I was about 15 or 16, my high school got involved with this program called SCOPE -- School Community Outreach Program for the Elderly. The idea behind it was that high school kids who do odd jobs for elderly and handicapped people who otherwise would not have been able to afford to hire someone.
It was only minimum-wage, for a few hours a week, but at 15 there weren't too many other jobs I could get. So I signed myself up and ended up working for them for a couple of years.
Most of the people I dealt with were real sweethearts -- there was the elderly man that I used to dust for because he was asthmatic and who always wanted me to sit down with him afterwards for tea and cookies. The woman who's husband had just had a heart attack and who could not herself drag the heavy mower up the steep hill of their lawn always brought me glasses of lemonade and asked me how classes where going. The elderly woman who was recovering from hip replacement surgery and who needed somebody to do her grocery shopping always wanted to tell me stories about her daughters who lived back in England.
Most of the kids in the program buggered off during the summer months, but my girlfriend and I stayed on.
( What I did on my summer vacation )