Courtney and I held a brat fry yesterday at a local, ma and pop grocery store. The goal was to raise money for Team In Training, because remember how I have to raise $3,800? She has to do it, too. It was a combined effort.
So, $147 later, we had all the supplies we needed. Except air conditioning. We stood in a shack in the parking lot, next to a grill, in the 98-degree weather. For four hours. Selling brats and burgers, and wiping sweat from our brows. And cheeks. And arms. And feeling it run down our backs.
We were pretty. Sweat stains and all.
When all was said and done, and we were both too exhausted to continue to prop ourselves up on the counter, we called it a day. And we each raked in a whopping $47 after breaking even on our expenditures. Forty-seven dollars.
We had high hopes that a brat fry would bring in a substantial amount of money for our cause, so while $47 is certainly better than none, it's mildly disheartening. And I spent the rest of the afternoon asleep on top of the covers, exhausted from a busy weekend. Smelling like grill.
We're hosting another brat fry on Saturday at Wal-Mart, so I'm hoping it won't be 108 degrees, and also hoping that people at Wal-Mart are much hungrier. And charitable.
Any money we make, up to $500, Wal-Mart will match, so we have that going for us. At $2 a pop, I'd need to sell 620 brats in order to reach the $2,480 I have left to raise, if Wal-Mart matches.