Chapter 17: The Wedding Buffet That Ended My Career as a Volunteer
After getting scammed out of my sneakers, I told myself:
"Kelvin, maybe you were born to serve others. Try doing good deeds."
So when my cousin asked me to help at her wedding, I said YES with my whole chest.
This was my redemption arc.
My job?
Simple.
Serve food at the buffet.
Easy, right?
WRONG.
First drama:
I wore my white shirt tucked into jeans, trying to look professional.
Five minutes in, a child carrying Fanta tripped and baptized me with orange soda.
I looked like a sunset.
Second drama:
While carrying a huge tray of jollof rice, I sneezed—mid-walk.
The sneeze was so violent, it tilted the tray.
Jollof.
Flying.
Everywhere.
One portion landed directly on the bride's gown.
Another portion decorated the MC's bald head like a festive hat.
The entire wedding hall went silent, like the rapture had started but left me behind.
The bride turned slowly, saw the mess, and whispered:
"Kelvin... WHY?"
I tried to defend myself but my mouth said:
"It's... it's raining blessings...?"
They didn't find it funny.
The groom's mother fainted briefly.
I was politely (but firmly) escorted to the parking lot, holding the empty jollof tray like a trophy of shame.
Moral of the story:
Maybe I wasn't born to serve either.
Maybe I was born to sit quietly and not touch anything.