Oh HELL No

A friend of mine recently met me at my office after work so we could go for a walk in the park up by my old apartment. On her way to my office she got stopped by a canvaser, and when I emerged from the building, I saw her but was held up by another canvaser.

When we had extricated ourselves, we went up to my office for her to change, and upon emerging were hassled by a third, and exceedingly pushy, canvaser.

I had long been of the opinion that, hell, we’re in public. They’re as welcome to be out as I am. So while everyone else griped about them, I shrugged my shoulders. I would just smile, say no thank you, and keep walking.

But as of late I’ve been less and less pleased with them (I know it’s just a crappy job – I don’t mean “them” as much as the situation).

See, I like to interact with people in public. I like to make eye contact, and smile. I like to be friendly, and to the best of my ability, I try to help out strangers. When they drop something, I’ll pick it up and hand it to them. If someone asks for directions, I’m happy to provide them. And the thing is, as hippie-y as it sounds, it’s really exhausting to avoid eye-contact like the plague or interact with someone and have to refuse them what they’re asking for over and over again.

So, being that my office is right smack dab downtown near all the shopping, the corner outside the building usually has at least three canvasers at a time. At least. This means that if I go a few blocks away to grab lunch at a food cart, I probably am faced with five canvasers on the roundtrip (since they’re not just on the corner in front of my office, but all the other high profile corners too). It’s completely exhausting. They grab your hand or stand in your way. The girls are self-righteous. The guys use their job as an excuse to flirt like drunk frat boys. It’s exhausting.

So as my friend and I hiked up to the park, we were discussing this, and she explained that canvasing was the only job she could get when she got into town, and she worked off commission, and it sucked. So she tries to humor them a little (though she also said that she had made an effort to pinpoint those who worked on her turf and avoid talking to them since she knew they’d probably had enough of it daily).

So this week as I’m coming out of the library, some guy says, “Hey you, pretty girl with the green shirt.” He’s the third canvaser I will have passed since leaving my office at noon. I use my normal line, “I have time, not money. Do you need volunteers?” He brushes that off, so I say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving away any money.” And he assures me that he won’t ask for my money. So. I humor him. I listen to his ridiculously long spiel. He’s from Greenpeace. There’s this horrible paper company cutting down old growth trees to use for toilet paper. They’ve tried appealing to the company, but it won’t budge. So consumers need to take action. Great, I say. Tell me again the name of the company, and I’ll happily boycott them. He says that’s great but rushes on to say that the only way to make change is through organizations like Greenpeace. I stop him to ask if Greenpeace wants my money. He said, “Yes, but I’m not asking you to give money to ME. See. I didn’t lie.” Which outright pisses me off.

Does this really work? Do people stop and get cajoled into listening and then say, “Ok, I’ll give you money even though you just tricked me.”? I highly doubt it.

I repeat that I’m not giving money. He asks why. Again, I humor him and explain that when I give money to charity, I do so after having sought and researched the cause myself – not just because some stranger asks me on the street. He says, dripping with self-righteousness, “That’s great. Those are nice shoes you have. Did you research them before you bought them?”

Not ever knowing when to shut up, I answer honestly and say, “No” (I bought these $7 flip flops at a 7/11 in a tiny town this past Memorial Day when we were on the beach and all I had were sneakers.) But quickly follow with, “I’m not arguing with you,” and turn to walk away.

He says to my back, “I’m not arguing with you. I’m just trying to show you the error of your ways…” Not even feigning a sincere desire to be helpful – just dripping with disdain.

And first of all, Greenpeace, that is some bullshit tactic you have of getting money. And not only is it abhorrent, but I highly doubt people go, “Oh! There are errors in my ways! Oh my god. I hadn’t realized. Here – have a twenty.”

Second, I just kept walking, but it was fifteen minutes later, back at my desk, when I stopped wanting to march right back to him and say, “Hey, Punk. Did you research those industrials you have in your ear? Do you know where the metal is mined from? Or are they bone? Do you know where the bone for those earrings comes from (most come from irresponsible farming)? Oh, and you have a really nice faux-hawk. Did you thoroughly research the mousse you used? Do you pay to be a member of Greenpeace? Do you have any idea if the TP in your apartment is made by a subsidiary of Kimberly Clark?”

That’s what I thought, punk.