Hannah informed me earlier in the week that I had been volunteered to help at an annual half-marathon/walk/fun-run down by HQ. She waited a few days to tell me that I needed to get up at 5.50am on a Sunday to enjoy this honour. So in the misty morning we found ourselves by the start line, putting up branded tents and laying out the aforementioned backpacks, because the way to get the public to love you is to give them a free bag.
People weren't meant to take them before 8am, to allow actual runners to benefit rather than just spectators, but policing this was close to impossible. I saw one middle-aged lady wait until she thought no one was looking and swipe one...before walking to the other corner of the tent and swiping another! We eventually had to fold the Chevron-branded tablecloths over the goodies so that people could no longer see what amazing, empty, string-strapped, thin nylon, logoed sacks they could make their own.
It was when we were given the go-ahead to distribute them that hell, quite literally, broke loose, with the deadly sin of greed probably being the main one on display. All-comers grabbed three or four bags, and stuffed them into another one, for easy carrying. Directions of "one per runner" seemed to be interpreted as "one per visit", with multiple returnees nabbing as many as they could. Let me just reiterate: these were incredibly thin, cheap, Chevron-branded bags, being given out in probably the richest community in the East Bay.
We were not alone. People seemed to take Whole Foods' handing out of fresh fruit to competitors as an excuse to skip the weekly shop. A lot of our bags were taken from us and then filled to bursting with bananas and oranges, possibly saving people two-to-three dollars.
We ran out of stock just as the 5k runners returned. "Have you got any bags left?" was a constant question, usually from people who were already wearing one. On hearing we'd been cleaned out, more than a few walked around the back of the tent to check in our empty boxes. I mean, really people?
By the end I knew how the wheat field feels when it has met the locusts. Are we no better than animals? I considered this as I pulled off my free Chevron t-shirt, and helped myself to a third Starbucks coffee and muffin that Chevron had laid on for volunteers, before catching a taxi home, paid for on the Chevron credit card, in time to attend another free dinner at a fundraising gala where Chevron had sponsored a table. People are strange.
Team Chevron: ready.
If you love us we'll give you this.
A cold start for the runners.
A fraction of the initial offering.
And they're off!
Hannah strictly enforces corporate policy.
Going...going...
...gone!
Another win for Team Chevron (I didn't exert any physical effort myself, obviously).
