One Blog, One Cup

As promised to Patrick here is the Steak n Shake cup that was donated. Please, do not take this as a comment on the Steak n Shake brand or the food they serve. I have enjoyed their steak burgers (or whatever) many times, but the cup that comes free with a purchase of consumable liquid has no resale value.

Triple Dick Score

Donor: Here you go.
Employee: Scrabble, cool. Where are the tiles?
Donor: Dunno. Just got the board.
Employee: …um, thanks I guess.
Donor: Yeah. Can I get a tax receipt?
*Blogger’s Note: I know that wasn’t very funny, but this is one of those donations that is so terrible I can’t think straight. I just want to curse. And that would have been less funny. People who don’t work at the Donation Location will think I’m being mean. My co-workers are reading this and wondering why I went so easy.*

The Donation Location is Sorry For Your Loss

Rule #34 for donating items to charity. Any stock you have left over from your failed attempt to break into the craft fair circuit is not acceptable. This plastic, castle-shaped kleenex holder falls under this rule, as do diamond shaped ornaments made out of the same material.

This thing is a classic Dead Relative Donation. Somebody’s grandma died and they just scooped everything that was on her dresser into a box and couldn’t handle the thought of throwing her things away. So they decided to give them away.

Right now you probably think I’m a terrible person for writing that. But I’m not the one who donated garbage to charity.

Pine Fresh

If you are going to donate an item to charity and think “Someone could use this,” then throw it away. Sure, someone could use your old, crusty air fresheners. But nobody will. If the value and purpose of your item is not obvious then it is trash. Your item is trash.

A common problem at the Donation Location starts at home. A donor will be sorting through their belongings, making a pile for trash and one for charity. A toy that has seen better days, but might find a special place in a child’s heart makes it into the charity pile. A book, still readable but with the cover torn off, goes in the trash. Now one pile begins to resemble the other and the donor begins to think, “Why am I doing this? This is all good stuff.”

Next thing you know, I’m debating the value of air fresheners that seem to have been stunt doubles for toilet paper. And then they let me in on the epiphany they had at home when they became to lazy to evaluate their belongings, “Well, someone could use this.” Could they? Because I don’t think they could, and if I’m not mistaken I’m the one who spends 40 hours a week selling used stuff to people. You’re a jackass who wants to feel like he’s “going green” by giving his shit to charity. Really you just want to get rid of your crap. Maybe poor people should be grateful for whatever you toss their way. Or maybe lower income doesn’t mean lower standards and no dignity. Oh, you’d like tax receipt? Yeah, better get the deduction for your used pie pans. What’s the point of “helping” people if you can’t benefit from it.

I’m done. I need to go take my inhaler.