EDITORIAL & OPINIONS
Donate to get these guys a clue
The Lone Star
I was on my way into the University Community
Centre, walking at a leisurely pace whilst enjoying the crisp,
fall weather. As I rounded the bend, I heard an unmistakable
whisper that warned of approaching mischief: "Yo guy, check
A large group of "fundraisers" asked me if I would like to donate money. I began to respond that, although I would have in fact liked to, the vending machine in the Visual Arts Building had just eaten all my change. I was already upset my dreams of Kit-Kat consumption had disappeared along with my $1.25. Damn you, you candy-dispensing devil.
To add insult to the fact I was broke, the "fundraisers" began personally insulting me. As I walked away, they made rude comments on everything from my jeans to my character. I heard strains of "What the hell kind of person are you, anyway?!" Worst of all, they insulted my prized, 1985 vintage pleather jacket. They yelled, "Oh look guys, she's too good for us. It's because of her jacket. Nice jacket." Such eloquence. (It probably should be noted the jacket is undeniably hideous with mustard-yellow patches and the name "Dave" embroidered on it. Nevertheless, I like the damn jacket).
More importantly, what the hell does my choice in outerwear have to do with my humanitarianism? A friend of mine recounted a similar experience. Before he had a chance to reply, they made fun of his hair. Who were these people? Because their rudeness quickly discredited them, I began to question whether or not the money was slipping into their own pockets.
In a really ironic twist, these guys were apparently collecting donations for breast cancer research, a noble cause. I would think if you are going to represent a respected charitable organization, you would do so with the class such a serious issue deserves. I wouldn't think insulting potential givers would be the most effective approach.