She was all smiles, teeth, and perkiness. "AB-so-LUTELY!" she exclaimed, in that scripted, trained door-to-door canvassers voice, after I explained how I thought my gas bills were too high. "That's why we are campaigning to LOWER your natural gas rates, and we are asking you to donate..." She went on with her sales pitch.
Backing up a step, I heard my doorbell ring. Thinking it was a neighbor wanting something, or an unexpected (but always welcome) visit from a buddy, I answered it, only to be greeted by the stereotypical Person With Clipboard. I let out an inward groan.
"Person With Clipboard" usually means they want to sell you something you don't need, or sign a petition for something you may or may not agree with but if you do agree with it, they want money along with the signature. This, as opposed to "People with White Shirts and Ties" that are just trying to get you to come to church- their specific church, of course.
I tend to cut "People With White Shirts and Ties" slack. Religion can be a tough sell, and typically, these are kids who are far away from home for the first time, doing a thankless job. Plus, I already have a religion, although mine, thankfully, does not usually ask it's members to solicit new converts by going door to door. But Person With Clipboard, on the other hand, well, I tend to get more irritated with them. "I'll give you ten seconds," I'll say, then after about 15 seconds, I'll usually reply, "Your story grows tiresome. Nowz Ze time on schprokets Ven Ve Donse."
But yet, even then, I try to be polite and cut them some slack, but yet I also have to be firm. Because I know how it works. Because, once, a long time ago, for a brief period, I was a Person With Clipboard. Yes, that's right, a long time ago, one summer, you might have opened your door and seen me standing there with a clipboard, listened to my dumb pitch, and when I heard any words of agreement, I'd chime in with the patented "AB-so-LUTELY." Like we were taught.
They got me on the college campus. "Want a summer job? Sign up to be a Community Activist!" the woman said, all smiles, teeth, and perkiness. "Derrr,yeah,SURE" I replied, as I did, in fact, need a summer job at that time. The deal was, it was a campaign for insurance rate reform; we were hoping to get a law passed to put a cap on auto insurance increases. And after I signed up, they gave me the low-down: They'd drive us to a town maybe 30 miles away, and we'd spend the next several hours pounding the pavement, knocking on doors, and giving our patented sales pitch about how the insurance companies were screwing people over, blah-de-blah-de-blah, but the goal was, to ask for money to pay for all of this. All our wages came from whatever donations we got; that's how this "Grassroots Movement" sustained itself.
So anyway, we all had a quota; you were supposed to raise at least $150 per day. I had a couple disadvantages though, which kept me from excelling at being a champion ace Person With Clipboard. When I was in college, I was far from an attractive, perky young woman; in fact I was a somewhat grungy 80's metal dude who looked like Joey Ramone. But even then, to actually excel at it, you basically had to hound, harass, badger, and literally beg people to give you money, to the point where they either blasted you with a garden hose, called the cops, or else simply slammed the door in your face. I wasn't really willing to go to that extreme, even though that was basically what the Clipboard Lady Boss told us to do.
I'd be like, "Those insurance companies are spending the money from your bills to fight you, the consumer."
"Ay men, brotha! I'm sick of my rates going up, just because I've had two DUI's, and I've only been in three wrecks!" They would reply.
"AB-so-LUTELY! So that's why we are asking for a $30 donation to help...."
"Nah man, I can't afford that. Sorry bro. I just spent the last of my money on court fees, plus I'm outta beer."
Which is where I'd be like, "Okay man, that's cool. Thanks for your help!" But the guys who actually got good at being Person With Clipboard would keep after it, keep hounding them, until the resident would either kick in the $30, or scream "I ain't giving you no money I said! Get the $%$% outta here!" and slam the door on them.
But after about a week of pounding the pavement in search of donations, I had had enough of being Person with Clipboard, and I soon got a much better and more stable job, delivering pizzas. Funny enough, I had much less trouble getting money from people at the door when I had a pizza to give them in exchange. It was kind of a mutual thing; the Clipboard Lady Boss had gotten annoyed with me not making the required $150 per day and was about to fire me anyway. Oh well. Pizza Delivery was fun, or at least, it could be an adventure at times, but that's a whole other post. Suffice to say I enjoyed it much better than pounding the pavement all day with a clipboard.
So I guess the moral of this is, well there really isn't a moral. Or if there is, I guess it's, be kind to your annoying solicitor Person With Clipboard, but by no means, should you feel obliged to give them any money or buy crap you don't need (Stand up for yourself even if you may ultimately have to slam the door on them.) Or else, if you know of a local restaurant that is hiring, let them know, and they'll probably be far more grateful than if you had actually given them money.