“…give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.” – Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet.
I volunteer fairly regularly with a charity that I also used to work for. Last night was a pre-event meet-the-crew do at their South Melbourne office, with about 50 volunteers, mostly musos, choreographers and giggly interns from the PR company hired to promote the upcoming gala ball.
Then there were people like myself, there to make sure that the CEOs, socialites and celebrities attending give more than they’re already paying, and perhaps feel as though they’re getting their money’s worth.
I already help with web-related things where possible and may have volunteered myself to redo their email newsletter, but these gala events provide an unusual night of observational entertainment for volunteers. The $20 glasses of champagne look cheaper to guests as the night goes on, and bids on the silent auction increase almost exponentially. As do the chances of catching the rich and famous at their very worst while dressed in their very best.
So there’s something in it for everyone. Those of you who’ve read Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene (or are just plain cynical) will argue that there’s no such thing as an unselfish act of charity anyway. This was strikingly clear from a few men I talked to, who were blatant about their reasons for volunteering. Chicks, booze and free food.
Even when they spoke to the CEO of the charity, they toned down their language but couldn’t hide their disinterest in what the charity does, and had honestly done it because it was compulsory for them to (company policy), and it looked like the least stressful volunteering opportunity with maximum perve opportunity.
They have no idea what they’re in for. Especially they chose to trust little ‘ole me on which roles on the night were “the lightest”. I pretended to give it some thought and pointed at something on the list going round. They didn’t even question me and ticked the box.
I winked at the charity CEO as they signed up and she smiled back benevolently, returning a wink over their backs. For the roles they’ve ticked, not only will they be working hard carrying things around, they’ll be the first to arrive and last to leave. Plenty of time to perve. Such charitable fellows.
