I work at a large store, which, for many years at Christmas would have a toy drive where a customer would purchase a toy and it would be dropped into a big barrel display of toys that other customers had bought that day. 

I’m completing some tasks after we have closed, and I see our new manager walking around the store with the wheel-box containing all the toys and… returning them to the shelves.

Me: “What are you doing? Those were bought and paid for by customers.”

Boss: “And they will be bought and paid for again.”

Me: “Are you serious? Those are for charity!”

Boss: “Do you realize that this store came in second to last in the district in sales? If you want to keep your job, you’ll shut up.”

Me: “And did you realize what you’re doing is fraud?”

Boss: “Whatever, no one cares.”

Incensed, I go to HR and tell them what happened. HR doesn’t seem to care all that much either.

HR Rep: *With a noncommittal shrug.* “I’ll pass your complaint up.”

Me: “This is not a complaint. This is reporting a crime!”

HR Rep: “Calm down. We’re not talking about crimes here. Reporting crimes in error can have some serious repercussions—”

Me: “It’s not in error, and repercussions are exactly what I’m after!”

With HR basically telling me to be quiet or risk consequences, I decided to contact the charity running the toy drive itself. They admitted they found it curious that our store was always the one that sent the fewest toys, but chalked it up to us being a smaller store (or so they assumed).

When I told them the square footage of our store and the number of customers, they were as shocked and appalled as I was. Sadly, I didn’t have proof, but they did start sending a rep to collect the toys every day, just before closing, instead of once a week, sabotaging my boss’s attempts to ruin any more Christmases.

So, every year I volunteer at a holiday toy drive where we sort and hand out donated toys to low-income families, which, sadly, are most families in our area. Most of the time, the parents are lovely and so grateful for anything, but there’s always at least one who forgets this is a charity fueled by donations.

A mom comes in with her two kids. We have a huge selection this year, if I do say so myself. Lots of board games, art kits, dolls, action figures, and sports equipment. Also, it should be noted that we only accept new items, no old and crusty hand-me-downs.

The kids immediately light up. The mom, not so much.

Mom: “These are all… cheap. Where are the PlayStations? And the Xboxes?”

Me: “Ma’am, everything you see here has been donated. It’s all new, but it depends on what people gave.”

Mom: “My kids don’t want this junk. They want real presents. Consoles. iPhones. Most of this crap I could get at the dollar store!”

Me: “Ma’am, these toys are all free, and they’re here to make sure every kid has something under the tree. Electronics are rare donations.”

Mom: “Well, you should plan better. These toys are just… embarrassing. What kind of charity is this?”

At this point, one of the kids is holding a board game, and the other has found a doll, like they’re the best things in the world. I glance at them and back to her.

Me: “It’s the kind of charity that tries to make sure kids smile on Christmas morning, even if their parents can’t afford a $500 game console. Maybe take another look at how happy they are right now before calling it embarrassing.”

Kid: “Mom, can we keep these?”

The mom huffs, snatches the toys out of her kids’ hands, and storms off, muttering that we’re a waste of her time.

I am helping at a food pantry. Most of us are over sixty, except for a couple of Spanish women who are mid-forties. This has been a busy few weeks, especially so with Christmas next week.

We have a few simple rules: Check in. Be nice. Move the line as quickly as possible. Please don’t ask for more than is given. Keep off your phone. It takes less than five minutes to walk the line and leave with a decent amount of grocery products, desserts, meat, bread, and lots of vegetables.

One ‘Good Samaritan’ complained:

Pantry User: “You don’t have rye bread!”

Pantry User: “You don’t have apple pies!”

Pantry User: “You don’t have a Christmas ham!” *We had twenty-pound turkeys.*

Also, he wouldn’t get off his phone.

Me: “Sir, please get off the phone. You’re holding up the line.”

After three warnings:

Me: “Sir, you’re holding up the line. You need to leave.”

He was asked to leave, so he did the only sensible thing and punched a seventy-two-year-old man.

The police were called, a report was filed, charges will be filed, and we have the whole encounter on tape, including his car and license plate.

Merry Christmas, loser.

A well-known organization posts up outside major retailers during the holidays to collect donations. I stopped carrying cash a long time ago, so I usually just smile and nod as I pass them. I already have my headphones in so I can listen to my own music as I shop, but I can hear this organization worker and his bell over it. 

Worker: “Merry Christmas, everybody. God bless you all. Merry Christmas, everybody. God bless you all.” *Looking right at me* “Hey.”

Me: “Huh?”

He motions for me to remove my headphones.

Me: “Yes?”

Worker: *Gesturing toward his collection bucket* “Merry Christmas.”

Me: “Oh. I don’t carry cash, sorry.”

Worker: *Not believing me* “Uh-huh.”

I hurry past, not sure why he picked ME and such a weird way to ask for donations.

As I am exiting, he is there watching people again. 

Worker: “Merry Christmas, everybody. God bless you all. Merry— Hey!” *Points to me*

Me: “I don’t carry cash.”

Worker: “They’ve got cash back.”

Me: “Have a nice day.”

Worker: “You don’t wanna help?”

Me: “Merry Christmas, sir.”

Worker: “It’s like that?”

I hurried across the street to get to my car. As I drove to the exit, the man watched me, throwing his hands in the air. I still have no idea why he picked me out of everyone going in and out of the store.

I’m working the register during a steady afternoon rush. A customer steps up with a couple of items, and I ring them through.

Me: “Your total is $18.42. Would you like to round up a dollar today to support the Children’s Literacy Fund?”

Customer: “No, thank you.”

I’m ready to move on, but my coworker at the next register decides she’s the Donation Police.

Coworker: “Oh, come on! It’s just a dollar. Don’t you care about kids learning to read?”

Customer: “I care very much. I donate plenty to charities.”

Coworker: “Then one more dollar shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

Customer: “It is when that dollar ends up being part of a corporation’s tax write-off so your bosses can all pat themselves on the back.”

Coworker: “Well—”

Customer: “I prefer my donations to be actual donations, not marketing copy. So no.”

I hand over the receipt and close out the sale. After the customer leaves:

Coworker: “She didn’t need to be like that!”

Me: “And you didn’t need to press her after she politely declined. Next time, just leave it alone.”

Coworker: “Still, she could have been nicer.”

Me: “And she could have been a lot meaner. I’d say she was being… charitable.”

Maybe it was a result of my having a point, or making a terrible pun, but she (thankfully) stopped talking to me after that.