Hey, do you have a moment for...?

At the risk of sounding completely heartless and uncaring, what the f*ck is up with those pesky Children's International representatives on Boylston Street?  Never before have I encountered such aggression, and this is coming from a woman who lived in New York for eight years!

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a game of Frogger, only instead of trying to avoid cars, I'm dodging college kids with clipboards.  And there are just so many of them!  I try my best to maneuver out of their way, but on certain afternoons they are literally quite impossible to avoid.  Couple that with the vexing pedicab crew and a broad just might accidentally run herself into oncoming traffic! 

I can spot them on my radar twenty feet away, but it doesn't matter, because they've spotted me first.  I veer away from them, creating an invisible shield between us, but it's pointless.  Who am I kidding, they'll always swoop in for the kill.

"Hi there!  Do you care about children?"

OR:

"Hey, come on, I'll only need two minutes of your time!"

OR:

"Wanna make a friend?!  It'll only take a second!"

Do you know something, Children's International dude?  I'm not playing!  You won't ensnare me!  No siree, Barbara!

Whether I'm talking on my cell phone or deeply engrossed in conversation with a friend is entirely inconsequential; the clipboard wielders will attempt to get me to stop and chat nonetheless.  Some days I smile and explain that I've got to get back to work.  Sometimes I mix it up and pretend I don't speak English.  On Friday I was in an edgier mood and simply muttered, "You are obnoxious" under my breath, only I'm fairly certain I uttered it loud enough for him to hear.

I can empathize with working a shitty job, surely we've all been there.  Waiting tables during the Fall of 2000 at The Olive Garden in Times Square certainly springs to mind.  Hubby even spent an unfortunate couple of weeks knocking on doors for MASSPIRG during the summer of that same year.  But if these college kids don't want to stand on a street corner day in and day out harassing unresponsive passerby, I have a news flash for them: they can get another job!  (I certainly did, after a particularly awful group of Olive Garden patrons left me a $3 tip.  On an $80 bill.)

It's kind of like having a telemarketer follow you around on your lunch break.  EVERY DAY.  Again, this may sound cold, but if there's one thing I learned in New York, it was to mind my own damn business.  Because once eye contact has been established, all bets are off.  And in my experience, talking to strangers rarely ends well.  Chatting with strangers has led me down ridiculous alleyways (like the time I signed up for Scientology classes, or the day that pyschic lady on Ditmars Boulevard tried to bully me into buying $50 worth of magic crystals.)  Fool me once, shame on you, dickhead!  But fool me twice, well, shame on me.  I am now firm on this rule.  No stop and chats, under any circumstances!

I won't lie; this rule can sometimes make me feel like a monster.  Especially when the person trying to get my attention is merely lost.  In light of this, offering directions is currently the sole exception to my rule.

Of course, there are loopholes in this exception.  It was scorching hot the other day and I sat on the steps of the Boston Public Library to rest my legs.  That's when I noticed an Asian girl standing not too far away, repeatedly glancing at me.  She looked sort of lost; maybe she was looking for the closest T station or something?  Since we were mainly surrounded by crackheads, wasn't it only natural she would seek out me, a kind faced pregnant woman, to point her in the right direction? 

Come on, Odd Broad, be a Good Person.  I made brief eye contact, and naturally it was all downhill from there.

"Do you believe in God?"  She asked, a smile flashing across her pretty face.

We've got a live one here, folks.  Since I was already sitting down, I was pretty much a captive audience.  "Uh-huh," I nodded, "Yes, I do."

(Oh Baby Jesus, get me out of here!  When will I learn?  I was just trying to be nice and look where it lands me!)

"Oh, good!  So have you ever heard of God the mother, then?"

"Do you mean Mary?" I warily asked, to which she replied, "No, no, Mary was a human, she gave birth to Jesus; I'm talking about God, the mother..."

She'd lost me the minute she dismissed Mary (what can I say, I'm kind of a groupie), and when she asked if I'd like to spend some time together so I could learn more about this God the mother, I told her I suddenly had to meet someone.  She then asked for my email address and phone number and I delivered the line that took me years to perfect: "How about you give me yours instead?"

Works like a charm every time.

       

Comments

[Weinerdog]

Ugh.

[the odd broad]

Weiner, I would kill to have you come here and talk to these kids. I can only imagine what would come out of your mouth...LOL

[Weinerdog]

I'd tell them I only give my time and money to gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered children.

[the odd broad]

I like it.