Living in Santa Monica is fantastic - we're right by the beach, everything is within walking distance, the weather is gorgeous, and the people are great. With a few exceptions. The charity workers here are relentless. You can't walk down 3rd St. Promenade without a constant bombardment of monetary requests. Since we moved here, I've been asked to support everything from world peace to preserving the habitat of the Mexican Spotted Owl. After a few weeks of being aggressively pursued along the promenade, I started to fantasize about doing this:
Having sworn off violence for Lent, I am instead taking detours around the promenade. Meanwhile, my husband has adopted this tactic:
Greenpeace Worker: "Would you like to donate a few bucks to save the whales?"
Fern: "Absolutely not. Both my parents were eaten by whales. I fully support their extinction."
Anti-Bullying Campaigner: "Would you like to donate a few bucks to help stamp out bullying?"
Fern: "No, I'm pro-bullying. I paid my college tuition with the skinny kids' lunch money."
Homelessness Campaigner: "Would you like to donate a few bucks to help end poverty and homelessness?"
Fern: "Ending poverty and homelessness is a completely unachievable goal. There are many reasons why there will always be people in the lower echelons of society and if you have some time, I'd be happy to discuss them with you in depth..."
I give it three months before the charity workers on the promenade actually start walking in the opposite direction when they see us coming.