Markets, Minestrone, and the Money Kangaroo

I spent today working at the markets for community service with a friend of mine. 

NB: As I don't like using people's real names over the internet, I gave her the option of choosing her own blog name. This turned out to be a mistake when she chose the name of Giuseppe L Schneider. Not only is it hard to type (and spell), it is confusing, considering that she is neither Italian nor German. She is, in fact, Chinese (although she insists she is a quarter Sherpa). However, I shall respect her wishes and henceforth call her Giuseppe. She is a perfect example of the type of eccentric person I intend to write about.

Anyway, we got posted to the BBQ for the first couple of hours. As the BBQ was outside, and there were typical below-zero early morning temperatures, we spent the time standing still and freezing slowly. And selling sausages, of course. But obviously that was less important than succumbing to frostbite.

After a couple of hours Giuseppe and I were sent off to the canteen instead. There were both pros and cons regarding this move. On the plus side, it was warm, inside, and we got free soup (minestrone, in case you were interested). On the down side, there was a man playing the panpipes about 20m away, within easy hearing distance. Even this would have been all right had he been able to play anything other than ABBA covers. However, he was not.

After some time in the canteen, the woman we were working under decided we weren't selling soup fast enough. Her solution to this problem was to turn Giuseppe and myself into the cold as soup vendors. Giuseppe held the saucepan of minestrone, while I held the bread and the cups. I was forced to keep the money in a pocket sewn to the front of my apron. Regrettably, this earned me the nickname of the Money Kangaroo. Giuseppe was the Pot Holder. I don't know if you've ever tried, but it is surprisingly hard to sell soup to people walking around. We had to circulate throughout the whole market before we managed to sell 15 cups. We gave a couple away to the volunteers who had taken over our spot on the BBQ, than gave up and went back to the canteen. The man with the panpipes (panpiper? panpipist?) had finished on a high note with an impassioned rendition of 'Fernando', so we sold him some soup.