Back in May I donated a frugal but well-intentioned $25 dollars to the local Kidney Foundation, probably out of a sense of existential guilt after having done a story on the life of a U of T student with two failed kidneys. I couldn't believe how miserable his life was. Believe me, just knowing about that stuff will scar you for life. Now, I'm not a rich guy - hell, some months I bet I make less than the local bag lady who picks old cigarette butts off the ground at the community tennis courts and tries to smoke them - but I figured if a modest donation once or twice a year could do anything to help people with failed kidneys find some help, or some peace, my pocketbook could handle it.
Then, as it turns out, the bastards sold me out. I get calls 2 or 3 times a week from all kinds of charities under the sun, and they all know my full name, middle initial, mailing address and even what hours of the day I'm likely to be at home (as a freelancer I often get back from interviews in the early afternoons and work at my desk). So let's add this up: for years I get sporadic charity mailings, maybe once or twice a year, and only the occasional cold-call by phone so infrequent that I really can't remember the last time it happened. Then, after finally donating to charity, I get multiple calls weekly, sometimes even two or three on the same day, who all seem to know every single detail handed over in my donation papers. Coincidence? I think you'd have to be an imbecile to not get suspicious.
What's worse is these people are VICIOUS. Here's an only-slightly-embellished example from a recent call:
Caller: Hello! Is Mr. (B) there?
Me: (Here we go again) Uh, yeah?
Caller: Mr. B., I'm calling from Children Without Assholes. Every year, thousands of children suffer terrible abdominal pains, agonizing intestinal scarring and in some cases, exploding asses. We're asking for a gift of $250 dollars to help these children, Mr. B. Can we count on your support?
Me: Um, gosh (250 bucks? Holy shit, are these people nuts?), I don't think I'm able to give anything right now, sorry. Good lu----
Caller: MR. B.! ARE YOU AWARE that these children live in constant pain where every day is a struggle, and without help that pain will consume them?!
Me: Yes bu---
Caller: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA of the derision and humiliation these children suffer EVERY DAY, MR. B., have you ever IMAGINED what that is like?
At this point, even if I slam the phone down in disgust, my day has still been made a whole lot shittier in a very small space of time. Have I ever imagined the pain and suffering caused by debilitating illness or deformity? You bet I have sweetie, thanks for reminding me!
I get calls constantly from different charities and sometimes even from the same ones, in the same week. I made the mistake of giving $35 bucks to a wheelchair basketball association and they actually called me every single week thereafter for a month to ask for more money. Are these people insane?
It's gotten so bad, I've stopped picking up the phone completely. Since I give my cell number to my friends and the majority of my story contacts, I've decided that missing a few work-related calls here and there on my home phone is worth it to avoid the soul-crushing agony that hits me every time a charity hound catches my scent.
Moral of the story: don't give to charity. They will sell you out in a heartbeat, insult you on the phone and basically make your life a living, charity-dodging hell. Don't say I didn't warn you.
