It's hard to be a volunteer when you're real picky.

I’ve volunteered at a variety of organizations over the years. I loved hammering away at Habitat builds where I also served on the board of directors. I was the go-to person for mitered trim boards. I do love angles. My friend Tim commented on this photo “What, they ringing the dinner bell?” Wise guy.
I ushered at a community theater the second Wednesday of each play which meant I got to see all the plays. “Cat on a hot tin roof” in the round was magnificent! I sat mesmerized in the first row, arms length proximity to Brick, played by a marvelously formed male clad only in tighty-whities during the first act. My, oh my, but I enjoyed that play.
My winter working schedule is down to one day per week. I could be writing a book but for an elusive plot, so I decided to devote some of my free time volunteering. My particular workday floats, dependent on business needs so I need a drop-in volunteer position.
I met with the staff at the United Way office to discuss options. They aim to match volunteers to positions for maximum effectiveness and enjoyment, (probably promotes longevity.)
So Diane reads descriptions from the affiliate list:
“Blah, blah, blah agency, working with little kids?”
“Oh no.”
“Blah, blah, blah agency, working with teenagers?”
“No.”
“Red Cross?”
“Oh no. I can’t stand the sight of blood.”
She peers at me over the top of her glasses.
“Oh here. How about rocking babies?”
“Not a chance in hell. I hate babies.”*
This outburst followed by absolute silence. You could hear a pin drop. Then they all burst out laughing.
Some people are just better suited for data entry.
I’m a little concerned that my filtering system has vanished. I used to be tactful.
*To clarify: I’m not a baby person. They’re all right once they’re old enough to exhibit some personality. In small doses.
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