By Comedic Storyteller Onicia Muller
Soliciting donations on the street is a job I don’t ever see myself doing. Well, not unless I’m soliciting to feed my ice cream addiction, but that’s neither here nor there.
The ubiquitous Greenpeace or World Wildlife Fund solicitor has it rougher than annoying market researchers random dialling of anyone with a working phone line. As a market researcher, I could fudge the data by filling in surveys myself.
But live on the streets with a supervisor possibly lurking in the crowd???
First of all, there’s no place to hide. On the street, you can’t just take a bathroom break or jiggle a cord to make a call drop. If your manager passes and you ain’t hustling, you screwed.
Second of all, you have to close the deal by getting folks to agree to give you money. You can’t fake credit card numbers or emails and even if you did, you’re paid on commission. Dawg! One hundred percent commission on zero dollars is ZERO DOLLARS.
Mmm, a quick conversion says that’s about one thousand exposures, but everyone knows you can’t pay bills with exposures. (Oooh, sick burn.)
Anywores, because I empathise with my compadres in the odd job struggle, I often make eye contact and use full sentences when declining their requests. We’re all humans. The least we can do is acknowledge their presence.
One day, I had time to kill and was feeling generous.
“Sorry, I already donate to several local causes. BUT, if you’d like to practice your spiel, I’ll gladly listen. No cash, just ears.”
And he’s off! I smile politely and answer his questions. He went through all – and I mean all – of his talking points. Dude for sure took up a hard five – possibly a soft ten – minutes of my time.
“So, would you consider donating to our cause?”
“Nah, I just wanted to give you an opportunity to practice.”
Angry? No. Confused? Possibly. Desperate for donations? For sure!
“Ah, yes. Well, would you consider signing up for one dollar a month?”
“Nah. Good luck, though.”
“Well, how about signing up for our newsletter?”
Before I proceeded to laugh, I will admit that in hindsight my good intentions hurt more than if I’d just brushed passed Roberto like some soul trapped in purgatory.
See, from my perspective, their pitches are hot mess word vomit meltdowns because they don’t get to practice. Sooooo, in my mind, I was helping him gain experience and confidence.
Le sigh. I stay overthinking things. Talk about being helpfully unhelpful.
Roberto should have saved his breath and sent me packing. Instead, he also tried to see three chess moves into the future and hoped I would change my mind.
I vaguely remember signing up to give African kids food and water. It didn’t last long… probably because at the time (At the time? Whatever you say, Onicia.) my desire for ice cream was greater than my desire to help unseen starving kids. Too terrible to admit?
Anywhores, shout out to all the locally-based non-profits that keep admin costs low so that they can put a larger portion of donation revenues towards actually doing the work.
Created on St. Maarten; based in Chicago, Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) is an award-winning comedic storyteller. She writes and says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. “Just Being Funny” is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life. Visit www.OniciaMuller.com/JBF
