Fuck! Canvasser Made Eye Contact

The familiar tingle of dread hits you in the pit of your stomach as you make your way up Northwest 23rd Avenue. A mere block from your car, weary from Christmas shopping, you can almost taste the glass of pinot you’re going to pour yourself the moment you get home. And then in a single moment, that fantasy is punctured by a beaming man in a purple Children International vest. He’s made eye contact with you, he’s waving like a lunatic, and he’s sure as hell not taking “please, for the love of God, no” for an answer.⁣
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“Hey there!” he hollers as you look over your shoulder in vain at a possible trailing pedestrian he’s addressing instead of you. “Don’t suppose you have a sec to talk about supporting a child in need this holiday season?” You have three seconds, tops, to come up with a response. Your brain goes into overdrive. ⁣
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A simple “no” is immediately ruled out. You can’t do that. You’re not a monster – you bike to work when it isn’t raining. You call your parents most weekends. You are an NPR Sustaining Member, dammit! Wait, can that be your excuse? No extra money to contribute because of your existing donations? You look down at your shopping bags, bursting at the seams and loudly branded with the logos of Pottery Barn and Kitchen Kaboodle. Fuck.⁣
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Your three seconds has elapsed. The man is still smiling, still staring at you, but is probably starting to wonder whether you speak a lick of English. He needs an answer. He deserves an answer. Your exasperated panic lends its way to pity as you think about all the hours he’s undoubtably logged on that blustery Portland street corner, trying desperately to make the holidays of underprivileged youth just a little bit brighter.⁣
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Tearfully, you look up, ready to accede to the man’s simple request, only to realize that in your guilt-driven fog you’d walked right by him and are already back to your car. You look back and see him trying in vain to chat up a lady clearly pretending to be on her phone. “So rude,” you mutter to yourself.⁣
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Emotionally exhausted, you get in your car and head home. Now about that pinot…⁣