A run in with charity

It's the holiday season, and you know what that means.

Those Salvation Army people incessantly ringing their bells are in front of the grocery stores, standing next to a red bucket filled with change.

I'm not opposed to donating to charitable paramilitary organizations, but as a twenty-something in the twenty-first century, I rarely have cash on me. So I usually do a despicable thing when I pass these people, I avoid eye-contact, and pretend to be talking on my cell phone. God, I hate myself.

But I was at the store today, and I found myself with six dollars (a five and a one) and several receipts in my wallet, and I figured I would toss a buck in the bucket.

At the very least, it would make me feel less guilty about masturbating later that night.

So I grab a bill, and walk to the front door of the supermarket. It's not until I'm about three steps away, that I realize that I've got the five in my hands. So I slow my pace, and have to dig through all of the old receipts to find my crumpled up one-dollar bill.

The guy with the bell was a small (as opposed to large?) Asian man. He was watching me the whole time, and probably knew exactly what I was doing. That I wasn't willing to give four extra valuable dollars to people less fortunate.

As I found the one and dropped it in, he gave me the most sarcastic, "Well, thank you" that I've ever heard.

But it doesn't end there, ladies and germs. No, this rollercoaster is just beginning. Well, not really. I'd say a little more than 40% done.

So I get my groceries, and I must have come to the store at an odd hour, because apparently there was a shift change, and a wiry bearded man wearing a Santa Claus hat was working the ol' bucket when I came out of the store.

I'll be god-damned if I was going to donate twice. But this guy looked at me even more condescendingly than the other guy as I walked out.

I still had the five, but if I wasn't going to give them five, I wasn't going to give them six dollars.

For some reason, I felt the need to explain my apparent selfishness.

"You know," I said, "I gave to the guy before you."

"Oh, I understand sir," the guy said.

I didn't like the tone in his voice. All condescending and shit. If I wanted to be lectured by some homo with a bell, I'd head to the annual "Faggots and the Bells They Ring" lecture series at Villanova.

"Seriously man, I gave twenty bucks (!) to the guy before you, it was all I had."

"It's no problem sir, you have a happy holiday."

So I decided a different tack. I decided to crack a joke, so maybe he wouldn't think I was scum. Maybe it's just a personality flaw I have, I don't like random bell-ringing homos to think I am scum. Weird.

"OK, I didn't donate before. I'm sorry, it's just that I want to make sure that my hard earned money won't go towards helping any dirty jews."

Well, that didn't go over as planned. Instead of the vacant, uncaring stare he had given me before, suddenly he stood six inches taller, and had a real fire in his eyes.

"Excuse me SIR, but I happen to be Jewish," he informed me.

I was absolutely stunned. Why didn't I pick up on this? He was a wiry, bearded man, like a stereotypical Jew. He was wearing corduroys and a brown sweater, and a.............Santa hat.

A Santa hat?

"You're not Jewish! Why are you wearing a Santa hat?" I yelled in his face, dismayed that he caused me a brief moment of shame.

"Well, the Salvation Army is associated with Christmas, so I wear it to help the cause," he told me, still visibly steamed.

"Oh, surprise, surprise! A Jew lying to get money! Way to not be a stereotype." I don't know where I lost control of the situation, but I think it was somewhere around here.

We argued for a few more minutes, him calling me rascist, and me saying that I thought he was just going to steal the money for himself, and quite a crowd had gathered around us.

My legal counsel has advised me to end this story here. Merry Christmas.