The windup and the pitch

Last night, my cell phone rang with an unknown number on the caller ID. It had a 302 area code, so it was someone from Delaware. Intrigued, I answered.

It was a senior from my alma mater, the University of Delaware, calling under the guise of reminding me of my upcoming 10-year reunion and updating me on current events on campus. Really, they just wanted my money, and I patiently waited for the pitch.

I could have just hung up the phone, of course. But I've made enough survey phone calls in my life to know she was just doing her job. Might as well help a fellow Blue Hen out.

"Would you be able to make a $250 donation this evening?"

Holy shit! Two hundred fifty dollars! Earlier in our "conversation," I had mentioned I was working as an AmeriCorps VISTA. So, either she 1.) was clueless about VISTA and, therefore, unaware of how little money I was making; 2.) knew I had no money but was forced to stick with her script; or 3.) didn't listen to a single word I had said up to that point. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, just because I'm that kind of guy.

"Well, like I mentioned earlier, I'm an AmeriCorps VISTA working on the Rosebud Indian Reservation making poverty-level wages. I am not able to make a $250 donation."

"Oh, I certainly understand that. How about $150?"

The buzz words of "Reservation" and "poverty" evidently didn't sink in. I had to get more specific.

"I make $833 a month. I can't afford that."

"Would you instead consider $75?"

"No, I am unwilling to make a donation this evening." There, that was my problem. Obviously, I hadn't been direct enough. No means no, right?

"We're also focused on the percentage of each class that donates, and 43 percent of the Class of 2000 has already contributed. Would you be willing to make a $25 donation?"

Sigh.

At this point, I wanted to not only teach her a lesson on active listening, but also mention how I disagree with the University's recent nickel-and-diming of loyal, multi-decade purchasers of football season tickets (like my father). Instead, I only repeated myself:

"I will not be making any donation this evening."

She didn't go any lower. But holy smokes, 250 dollars! Whatever happened to a "meaningful" contribution? And the University seriously needs to let their salespeople deviate from the hard sell. Now I wonder what she would have said if I would have told her I was unemployed? Maybe something like, "Well, how much of your weekly unemployment check can you spare? And did I mention we also take EBT?"

By the way, I'm not going to the reunion.