When I showed up at Quola Soup Kitchen this Tuesday morning, honestly I was kinda lost. The entrance wasn’t clearly marked, just a beat-up red door next to a laundromat. Almost missed it completely.
The First Shock
The coordinator, Dave, tossed an apron at me the second I walked in. No orientation, no safety talk – straight to peeling 50 pounds of potatoes with this rusty peeler that felt like it might take my thumb off. My nails were stained brown by lunchtime.
What I wish I knew BEFORE showing up:
- Bring your own gloves! Theirs are thin plastic and tear instantly
- Wear crap shoes – kitchen floors get soaked in mystery liquids
- Hydrate hard – no water breaks when the rush hits
The Reality of Serving
They threw me on the serving line at noon. Looked simple until old Mrs. Henderson tried cutting line for extra cornbread. Had to shut that down while juggling three bowls of scalding soup. Nearly dropped one on Dave’s foot.
Pro tips from nearly dying behind that counter:
- Mark ladles clearly – veggie stew looks dangerously like beef stew
- Watch for sideways glances – that’s how you spot someone sneaking back for seconds too soon
- Comfortable ≠ Safe – those non-slip shoes? Useless on carrot puree
The Aftermath
Cleaning duty broke me. Had to scrub these ancient soup pots while sweat dripped into my eyes. Water pressure sucked, so chunks of potato clung like glue. Found mystery gunk under the steam table that made me gag.
Biggest surprises NOBODY mentions:
- You will stink like onions for 48 hours minimum
- “Leftover soup” means take 3 quarts home… whether you want it or not
- They use dish soap from 1997 – bubbles are a distant memory
So was it worth it? Yeah, when Javier – this quiet guy in a faded army jacket – smiled after getting his cornbread. But damn, they work you like a rented mule. Bring ibuprofen. You’ll need it.
