Remember when I told you that I don’t like answering the door if I am not expecting someone? Well, this is why. I’m sitting in the purple chair, reading a rather dark and twisted mystery, when someone starts banging on my front door. Not just knocking, but banging. Then they ring my door bell three times, wait a beat, and start knocking repeatedly. I’m thinking, this has to be a neighbor and it has to be an emergency, what with the knocking and the banging and the repeated doorbell ringing. So I open there door and there is a woman standing there, she hands me a business card. On the business card it says “I am deaf.” It goes on to say something about looking for work, not having any work, oh did I mention I am deaf… this part was hard to read because the card had been copied from a copy many times over. Then at the bottom it says “Donate as much as you wish.” In her hands, she held a pile of bills. Not a lot, but enough to let me know that other kind souls had, apparently, given her money.
I was speechless. Which hardly mattered in this situation. Now, I only know a couple of things in sign language:
“Surprise!”
“Dead Dog”
“Shut up, bitch, go make me a turkey pot pie.”
None of these seemed appropriate. I did not know the sign for “What? Are you kidding me? You come to my home and bang on my door, ring my bell over and over, and I am supposed to give you money? You come to my door to beg for money?”
So I’m stuck. Do you go with compassion, or do you go with indignant annoyance? I went with annoyance. The sign for “oh no, no thank, no… shutting the door now!” is universal, kids. But it ticks me off, because some part of me wonders if I am supposed to feel guilty because I can hear and I have a job. While the other part of me is thinking that this is a total scam and the previously mentioned part of me is a sap. The sap side of me tells the cynical side of me to have a heart, and remember how very very fortunate we are. So the cynical side of me smacks the sappy side of me upside the head and tells her to quit being such a pussy. And then they get in a big fight and are currently not speaking to each other.
And that is why I don’t answer the door.
And yes, I really do know how to say “shut up, bitch, go make me a turkey pot pie” in sign language, although I find very little use for this knowledge.
You feel bad if you give, you feel bad if you dont. In this type of situtation you have to decide, do you keep what you have, and feel bad, or give what you have and some how feel worse. Well we all decide our place in the material world, and we live with that. So give, or not; but try not to feel too bad, because if you chose the other it would feel the same.
Oh old scam…When I worked at Kinkos, we had people all of the time come in and make those cards. Some were deaf, some were not. It is just a more aggressive form of begging. They even tried to beg for the copies. Since, I do not condone any outright begs, they learned quick to wait for the others to “help” them.
Now, if you can play a guitar or a nice sax out on the street or even read to me your poetry, I will be more than happy to pay for the time and company. But just because you ask? Sorry bub, try getting into society and all of the safety nets we have provided. Compassion has its place and that was not a situation that deserved compassion.
i used to give money out a lot, but now i donate to established groups that i know aren’t scams. it’s still hard to not feel bad when you say no to someone who might genuinely need your help, but overall i think organized charity is the way to go. you don’t get to see the results immediately and first hand, but instant gratification is not always the most effective.
I once saw a panhandler on the corner wearing a hat, and with a hat in his hands collecting change. TWO HATS! I dont even have two hats, and i have a job. Giving to these clods does no good, it incourages them. I think that they should be licsenced. The panhandlers, Squeegee kids and the street profromers; these people are like dogs and the stray ones should be put in kennels. But i guess that would raise taxes, and the ire of the liberals, imagine all the hand bills that ill get over this, ill be pamphleteered to death. Second thought Iíll just avoid busy streets.
jodi- i don’t answer the door for the same reason, plus i avoid the unwanted relgious nutters.
someone rang the doorbell late this afternoon. guess what… i didn’t answer the door.
I finally get it. The day after a long night of drinking with two of my best friends. An out of work oil worker, and a lesbian. The next morning I woke, upside down in bed. The shoes, off my feet, are under my pillow. The shock of being robbed made its way to my face. They took beer when they left. I was awoken to find 4 beers left in my fridge. But I still had 2 grams of weed. So here I sit, with the full understanding, of high and dry.
Were you guilted into giving her money?
oh no, i didn’t give her anything.
Gouge away
You can gouge away
Stay all day
If you want to
Chained to the pillars
A three day party
I break the walls
And kill us all
With holy fingers
No one coming to the door will get money from me. It’s not that I don’t want to donate, it’s that when I’m home I expect to be away from soliciting. If I’m in a public place, then fine, ask for something/hand out your leaflet/show me what you’re selling. Don’t come at me when I’m relaxing at home though, especially since you’re more than likely going to make me get out of the couch where I had JUST gotten comfortable.
It reminds me of the woman who decided to wash all her clothes, including the ones she was wearing. Nude, with her curtains drawn, she heard a knocking at her door. The docking got louder and louder, so she eventually called out, “Who’s there?”
“Blind man!” was the reply.
“Who?!?” she asked again.
“Blind man!” he repeated.
Figuring there really wouldn’t be any harm because, well, we was blind and all, she opened the door.
His jaw dropped. “Hey lady, nice tits! Say, where do you want me to install these blinds?”
Can I ask WHY you know how to sign that? Really, really curious.
Hey! I know how to say “Here is a horse” in Icelandic.
ok now THAT, is handy! even though I don’t like horses, I would still learn that before going to Iceland. So that if someone were to say it to me I could run screaming “nooooo! noooo! not a horse!”
I used to know how to sign “Bring me a beer, bitch.” Naturally, much like an “I Love Lucy” episode, the only time I ever tried to sign “I’d like a beer” I screwed it all up, which led to an apology using a real sign-language interpreter.