I've been looking for work lately and I'm constantly running across ads for "energetic people who LOVE the environment" or "make up to 500 dollars a week - just by caring!" I think to myself, Well, I do have energy. And I love the environment, I recycle after all. (For a while I was even trimming the little plastic windows out of envelopes so I could recycle those, but it felt kinda forced.)
But then I realized what these jobs actually entail: Standing on street corners to stop people walking by, and asking them for money.
This is not something I could ever get involved with. I pass these people all the time on my way somewhere, and they're incredibly tenacious, they're like terriers with clipboards. "Can you spare a minute for the environment?" "Can you spare a few minutes for starving children?" "Do you love puppies?" I mean who in good conscience can sidestep them? What if someone you know saw you ducking these people and they spread that around and then the next time you're out on the town everyone's saying, "JD, why do you hate staving acid-rain-ravaged baby seals?" Then you look like a shitheel.
I try to hear them out at least. But of course, they don't just want a few minutes of your time, they want your cash monies. And though their cause be worthy and their courses just, you can't get blood from a turnip, kids. I always have to say no and then I always have to feel guilty. I have plenty of guilt as it is, so my usual tactic is to pretend like I'm talking on my cell phone. But I'm such a guilt-ridden pile of neuroses that I wait until I'm out of sight to shut the phone and put it away, in case the terriers should see me and suspect that I have cellphon-ied them, that I didn't really have a call at all, that I avoided them on purpose! Their feelings might be hurt! What do you have then? More guilt! (I told you I have energy, can you imagine the extent of the effort that is being wasted on these little self-created dramas of which I am the unwitting star? I could probably power my damn hair dryer with it.)
And why can't I get something like this going on my behalf? Does the environment have a cornerstone on charitable impulses? Maybe I could have a team of volunteers around the city, hanging out in front of Bloomingdales and Saks inquiring, "Hey, can you spare a few minutes for the JD?" And on their clipboards they could have my 8 x 10 and some copies of good reviews of me in plays, or show photos or something. Maybe a page of testimonials of people who like me and would like to see me succeed, or at least pay the rent. People might give money if I looked pitiful enough! Marcus could probably design a little powerpoint presentation with my bank statements, that would do it. (Interested parties please leave your number in the comments section with which shift you want. Clipboard not provided.)
In the meantime I have a new way to deal with the charity terriers, I look them right in the eye and say as directly as possible, "I'm an actor."
"Ohhhhh", they murmur sympathetically. "Well, have a nice day."
Comments (4)
you are brill!
love you much
Posted by me, kimber leigh | July 10, 2005 11:33 PM
Posted on July 10, 2005 23:33
OMG!!! Are we cut from the same cloth, or what??? Example: Yesterday I was in the hospital with Auntie Kathy waiting while Uncle Cliff had back surgery for a herniated ruptured disk. (He's fine BTW) I had to use the bathroom. I was waiting in line and out of a stall came this whale of a woman in an orange flowered mumu tent thing. I squeezed past her, entered the stall, and locked the door. Then the odor hit me. I don't think she had washed her nether regions for a decade. It was so disgusting!!! I turned to leave and wait for another stall...I didn't have to go THAT BAD and besides, I didn't want anyone to go in there after me and think that smell had come from MY nether regions!!! But I could still see her mumu through the crack in the door. She was evidently waiting for her daughter who was in the third stall. So I stayed in there, holding my nose, peeking through the crack and waiting for her to leave. I didn't want to hurt this stranger's feelings, after all. If I had bolted out of there without the proper amount of time and flushing, then the other people waiting would figure out that her nether regions were stinky. I might as well yell, "The mumu lady has a rotten crotch!" And that would be downright cruel. And now I feel guilty for sounding like I hate fat people. I blame all this guilt-driven behavior on my Catholic upbringing. Jessica, what's your excuse?? I love you tons!
Posted by Auntie Janice | July 11, 2005 6:35 AM
Posted on July 11, 2005 06:35
Brilliantly funny blog once again, my friend! And it must be said - Auntie Janice stories make me howl! Clearly the Catholic guilt runs in the family. My family also carries the guilt trait in our gene pool. What's up with that?! Was it in the water when we grew up? Perhaps it was in all that polyester that we wore in the 70s. Not that I ever wore polyester...I'm just saying...
Posted by Nora | July 11, 2005 10:34 AM
Posted on July 11, 2005 10:34
When is Auntie Janice starting her own blog? Then I can get a double dose of the funny.
Posted by Marcus | July 14, 2005 11:50 AM
Posted on July 14, 2005 11:50