Creative Writing: Facial Hair

It was the worst facial hair she had ever seen. Most of the men in the gymnasium had beards. Some were attractive. Most looked like birds’ nests. This one was exceptional.
“Hello?” A large red hand waved between them. “Hello?”
Lisa plastered on a bright smile and repeated the phrase she had used a hundred times that day.
“Happy Thanksgiving! Would you like white meat or dark?”
“Hey!” A short man pushed the newcomer aside and shoved his plate at Lisa. “I was next. I want both. And Pete can wait in line just like everyone else.” He jostled the man deliberately as he passed on to the next server.
“Yeah, you go to the back of the line.” An enormous teenager, dressed entirely in black, slid in front of Pete. “White meat.”
“Sorry, Damarius. You
She shouldn’t have been left alone. She wasn’t equipped for dealing with this kind of person. He wasn’t as alarming as some of the other homeless men here. The smell of cheap perfume - probably a recent addition - was better than the pervasive odor of smoke, tobacco and unwashed clothing. Except for the odd facial hair, he looked the same as the rest of the men. He wore a stained tan canvas barn coat over a blue sweater, and a black knit watch cap pressed damp strings of dark blond hair down over his eyebrows and ears. With a shave and a shower, a haircut, clean clothes and a better attitude, he’d look fairly respectable. He could probably even get a job, if he
She was never doing this again, under any circumstances. According to the news reports, people signed up years in advance to serve Thanksgiving dinner at homeless shelters. Why didn’t they keep a waiting list? She’d been roped into it at the last minute, when half of the church’s service team got strep throat. Even then, she would have slid out of the “opportunity” if her sister-in-law hadn’t made the request in the same conversation as her announcement that they were canceling the family dinner.
“So really, the timing is perfect. I was feeling guilty about abandoning you on Thanksgiving, and now you won’t be alone!” Lisa had protested, but Claire ignored her with the ease of long practice. “Pastor Keller was so relieved when I told him you already had the background check! He said to thank you and just be there at ten.”
She had been there at ten, of course. What kind of heartless person didn’t want to serve Thanksgiving dinner at the homeless shelter? She couldn’t spend the holiday at home alone. She’d tried that right after Lee died, and it had led to a time of darkness. She couldn’t do it