Cute? Absolutely. Touching? You know it is. Totally was not the experience I had Saturday though.
Had to run to Wal-Mart. On the way in, like an obnoxious relative arriving for the holidays, I hear the bell before I see it. Started reaching for a buck. I figured this is my one chance to look good in the eyes of someone this year, even if it was an anonymous stranger.
Red pail in sight, lock and load.
Hold up for a sec. My moment of glory was not to be. The ex-mall Santa ringing the bell like he’s off his seizure meds is busy talking with his bud about heading over to Dunkin’ Donuts, or maybe elsewhere. (I even pull the emergency move: the one where you stall by pretending to fumble the dollar insertion This is in the hope they’ll notice you’re actually donating instead of walking past like all the other asshats.)
No good. Santa’s focused on a large regular and a crueller. Opportunity wasted, I go get what I need.
On the way out, I actually forgot about him until I notice Santa must have given into temptation because there was a shift change. I’m fucked because I don’t have any singles left for the new guy. I don’t pull the reserve chute move either: the ‘self-patting down of the pockets/I’m sorry’ gesture. I just walk faster, hoping he won’t notice.
Riiiiight.
Instead, the ringing gets louder behind me, like the sound waves that target just one person. As I’m 10 feet past, retribution comes in the form of “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” But not a Martha Stewart “Merry Christmas” full of good tidings and shallow smiles. No, it’s that fucking condescending version which says “Hey loser, nice. You cheap bastard. I hope you can sleep tonight. Kids will die, oceans will rise. Prick.”
I want to turn and say that I donated. That my dollar is in there, and that I know it will do some good, just like the girl in the commericial. Okay, I may not save a family with that buck, but know in my heart, I saved a kitten at least. I want to tell him this, but by then, some asshole almost hits me in the middle of the crosswalk as I’m turning around. I decide to let it go, but not before I think how this should be the next Real Men of Genuis for Bud.
Merry fucking Christmas to you too, Mr. Freeze Your Nuts Off Bell Ringer Guy.
Salvation Army
4 comments:
As someone who used to beg for money professionally, I never give unless I have a clear knowledge where the money is going. Once, I asked the bell ringer what it was the Salvation Army did for people. I was told, "they give folks like me a job at Christmas time." Since no other reason was furnished, I opted not to give.
Unable to view the video for some reason. But your post is hilarious (but sad, as I'm sure it's true).
I find that if I choose a charity to give to every year, then I don't feel as guilty when I snub everyone else.
Does this classify as a "charity?"
(You might have to try a different browser. I had trouble at first. Maybe it's the Wal-Mart curse.)
And tih, it might qualify as a charity in CA, not sure.
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