Back Off, Lady

I experienced my first brush with guerrilla charity recruitment yesterday. By the time the bloodthirsty representative of a local organization sniffed me out, I had already been significantly burnt by the sun, had my arm smashed between two splintery wooden poles, and collided (violently) with the edge of a metal trailer.

I was already at a charity event, the Hilton Head Equestrian Exposition, representing SCAD's equestrian team. I was innocently kneeling on the edge of a polo field, waiting for one of the exhibition riders to knock down a pole so I could sprint across the field and re-set it, when a gaudily clad figure stepped in front of me.

Gaudy Lady: Are you guys from SCAD?
Me: (looking down a the logo on my polo shirt) Yes ma'am
GL: And why exactly aren't you a volunteer with my charity?
Me: (scanning the horizon for an escape path) I'm sorry?
GL: Shouldn't you be volunteering for my organization? It has to do with horses.
Me: Oh, um, well, we would love to volunteer for everyone, it's just that we are student athletes, so we have to divide our time between...
GL (interrupting): Well what do you do on Saturdays?
Me: I mean, we have competitions and many of us have jobs.
GL: Come over to our table. I'll give you information so you can come to orientation tomorrow.
Me: Oh. O.K...

And I follow, meekly, to her table, accepting stacks of brochures and newsletters, apologizing for not volunteering before.

I know, I know--it's for charity. But you know what? I still resent the fact that she guilted me, accused me, implied that I was lazy, or uncharitable.

So, Gaudily Dressed Lady with your bauble earrings and long-sleeved, printed, button-up shirt lumpishly stuffed under your poorly designed t-shirt, here's a little letter for you:

Yes, I'm from SCAD and no, maybe I'm not doing anything next Saturday. But to be honest, ma'am, your bristling attitude does not make me want to help you out. I'm a good person, you know. Goodish, at least. I saved a newborn kitten out of a parking lot last Halloween. I sometimes write haikus for friends for no particular reason other than to make them smile. There are times, even, when I stop to let pedestrians cross at every square between my house and Arnold Hall. I do all of these charitable things on top of my team practices, workouts, and competitions and in addition to my school work, my (unpaid) internship, and my (paid) job. So maybe I want to spend a Saturday watching America's Next Top Model re-runs. Maybe I want to drool on my pillow past 7 o'clock. And maybe, just maybe, I might want to spend the day shuffling between the microwave and my overstuffed chair with extra buttery bags of popcorn. So no, I will not volunteer for your hostile organization and no, I will not feel guilty about it.

Boo-yow.