college tele-fundraisers and female gym rats

Hey, you poor desperate hopelessly upbeat cold-calling peoples wanting moolah for the universities I once attended:  “no” means “no”, ok?  I sincerely appreciate your dreadfully difficult job trying to squeeze money out of me.  In no way do I blame you for interrupting my post-dinner Facebooking time!  I get that you are just doing your job.  Dirty Jobs and Ice Road Truckers and whores got nothin’ on you.  EVEN SO, you can save both of us valuable time by listening carefully to my words the first time:  “no”.  I said it really really politely!  I was in no way rude.  It’s so funny when you think scaling back your pitch for thousands of dollars to, like, only hundreds will change my mind.  It starts to get annoying when you launch into your scripted “we have other payment options” spiel.  It’s downright pathetic when you make it clear you would be happy all along with 20 bucks.  I feel guilty, in a way, because I can envision you as a panhandler.  (Did I hear traffic?  Are you calling from an old pay phone on the street?  I thought there weren’t anymore of those…)  I assuage my guilt with this time-tested, bullet-proof tactic:  I am not giving money to ANY college I went to, because within months all of my money is going to the college of my son’s (and in a few more years, my daughter’s) choice!  That’s seven years of mega-giving, you can count on it.  People are giving and giving to you, and yet your tuition and fees keep sky-rocketing year after year.  You’ll get no sympathy from me.  Thanks for playing.  I’m sure I’ll be talking to one of your cohorts again in a few weeks…

Hey, impossibly skinny but very serious-looking, into herself, workout chick at the gym:  “hello” means only that, “hello”.  I’m new here.  I do not want to seem stand-offish or snobby, and as I’ll probably be seeing you again in boot camp, I figure I ought to get over my shyness and be a little outgoing.  I don’t even want to say hello at 6am, trust me.  Maybe you assume I am (everyone is) coming on to you?  Because, I know, lots of people in gyms check each other out and look for hook-ups.  None of my business.  But do you see the wedding band?  Do you see that I’m not ogling in any way?  I am not checking out your bod, OK?  I think you get enough looks — in the mirror!  By the way, I don’t find borderline anorexia attractive.  Maybe after your workout you can grab a happy meal at the McDonald’s across the street. (And WTF is that doing near a gym anyway?!  Oh, right, it was there first.  Not good product placement…)

Rant completed!  Don’t take me too seriously; it’s all in fun. 😉



About goldenbearflyer

Robert Martz is a writer who doesn't make any money writing, so he keeps a day job in finance. He lives and works in Walnut Creek, CA. He began blogging in 2011 as a way of taking responsibility for and finding a place to put his thoughts and feelings. He loves to eat, cook, and travel. He volunteers, practices yoga, runs, bicycles, hikes, and explores nature with passion and a child-like sense of wonder. He is inspired by his amazing friends, doers and other writers. Check out another of his blogs at
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