I am working at the checkout. Our card payment screens offer customers the chance to round up their payment and donate to a particular charity. A customer has just seen this prompt.

Customer: “It’s asking me if I want to round up and pay $0.13 to a charity.”

Me: “Yes. You can opt out by pressing the X button at the bottom.”

Customer: “I don’t donate to foreigners, disabled people, gays, that environmental crap, and democrats. Which one should I choose?”

Me: “Uh… there’s a local animal charity on the list, sir. It’s [Animal Charity].”

Customer: “Are they gay animals?”

Me: “I don’t think they’re anything, sir. Just animals.”

Customer: “Can you check? I need to tell my pastor I donated to a charity, but I need to make sure it doesn’t go to any gays.”

I call my manager over because, honestly, I don’t know what to say, and this guy is being so offensive that I am recoiling a little bit. The customer explains his “predicament” to the manager.

Manager: “Do you support veterans, sir?”

Customer: “Of course, I always support the troops!”

Manager: “Pick [Veteran Charity], then.”

Customer: “Thank you! I can tell everyone at church I gave to a good charity.”

The customer leaves happy with himself.

Me: “[Manager], you know that [Charity] is the veteran support offshoot of [LGBT Foundation]?”

Manager: *Sarcastically* “Really? Wow. I didn’t know. Crazy…”

I was part of a fundraiser where we all dressed up like zombies and people had to run through a track in the park and buildings, collecting various tokens and staying “alive”. They stayed alive if they held on to three fabric tags attached to their waist that we tried to tear off.

There was one child zombie; her parents were involved, so she was, too. She had a new pink princess dress bought especially for it. She had fun ripping and painting that pretty pink dress.

Feedback from those partaking was that she was the scariest thing out there, the little girl standing at the far end of a corridor, cuddling a dismembered arm like a teddy bear. And if the runners paused and stared too long, she’d suddenly run at them, shrieking her head off. 

She had a ball!

In the early 1990s, I worked for a bank, and every year they’d have a donation thing among the employees to raise money for a charitable cause. (I’ve long since forgotten what organization it was for, but I do remember that it was one that’s well known for paying their executives a lot while actually using very little for the cause.)

Human Resources would always say, “You don’t have to give.” But there was an unspoken, “…but you’d better.”

This was proven when one of my workers (getting minimum wage) simply could not give. HR harassed him to the breaking point, and he gave them every penny he had left: thirty-six cents.

And then, the HR lady came to me, all ticked off over his donation.

Me: “What more do you want? He gave every cent he had until payday at the end of the month.”

She left and reported him to our department officer.

My employer has an automatic prompt every time someone pays with a card, asking if the customer would like to donate to local pet shelters. I am finishing a transaction with a man in his forties who has not acknowledged my existence once.

Me: “Okay. Your total is [amount]. Is that cash or card?”

He puts his card on the reader to use tap-to-pay.

Me: “Okay, card. There is a donation—”

Man: “Did it go?”

Me: “No, not yet. You have to select—”

Man: *Moving his card all over the reader* “It’s not working.”

Me: “You still need to select whether you’d like to donate to local animal shelters. If not, you—”

Man: “No.”

Me: “Okay, just go ahead and press ‘No, thank you’ on the screen.”

Man: “Why isn’t it working?”

Me: “You have to hit ‘No, thank you’ at the bottom right of the screen.”

Man: “I want to use credit.”

Me: “You cannot pay until—”

Man: *Finally looking at the screen* “Is this asking for a f****** tip?! Are you serious?”

Me: “No, it’s asking about—”

Man: “I can’t believe you think it’s okay to ask for a tip for ringing me out!”

He goes on like this for a good minute. I’ve decided to just wait and let him run out of steam. As loud as he’s being, everyone around us knows he’s talking out his a**, so they just watch, either amused or glaring daggers at him.

By the time he finishes, the prompt has timed out and moved on to the payment screen. I haven’t touched the register or even been close enough to the keyboard to do so since the first time he interrupted me.

Man: “…it’s so d*** disrespectful— Oh. Good, there it goes. See, how hard was that?”

Me: “Here’s your receipt. Have a nice day.”

Man: “Get your manager. This tipping culture is obscene. You cannot—”

Me: “Sure. You can step to the side here and she’ll be right up.”

I call the manager over the loudspeaker and address the woman who has been waiting in line behind the man.

Me: “Hi. How are you?”

Woman: “I’m good. Honey, do you really ask for tips? I’ve never seen that here.”

Me: “No, it’s about donating to local pet shelters.”

Woman: “Oh! That’s good! I’ll donate $10 if that’s okay.”

Me: “That’s wonderful! Thank you!”

The man is still there, turning red as we talk. He grabs his purchases and walks out.

A moment later, the manager does arrive. 

Manager: “You called?”

Woman: “That was a man who left. But I will tell you that this girl has the patience of a saint. That man was going on about tipping when he wasn’t even reading the screen.”

Manager: “Tipping?”

Me: “The donation prompt. “

Manager: “Oh. Well… Okay, then. Um… carry on?”

Me: “Thank you!”

I know a lot of places are asking for tips for things that people don’t believe should be tipped, but if he had taken two seconds to read the screen, he would have seen it.

I work in an office full-time while I am also in full-time education. I am earning barely above minimum wage (hence the push for my education), and I’ve been denied a raise by my boss twice due to some fake, made-up reasons; the real reason is that he is a cheapskate.

This is fine, as I don’t intend to be here forever, so I accept the stability of the workplace and the fact that I can fit it in around my studies.

The boss hired another manager from outside who is totally his type. She is admittedly beautiful, but she has no idea she was hired because of her looks, not because of her competence. Thankfully, she is a very nice lady and she does her work with few issues.

She is also one of those people who volunteers a lot and raises money for lots of charitable causes. Our boss has never donated to charity before, but whenever she comes in stating that she’s raising money for a specific cause, he’s suddenly very generous!

With my barely-above minimum wage and my need to make rent, I have very little disposable income. However, the cause she’s raising money for this one is one I feel strongly about, so I am able to hand over five dollars when she sets up a donation box in the break room. (She doesn’t go desk to desk, thank God!)

My boss witnesses me putting in a five into the box while he is trying to look good in front of the pretty office manager.

Boss: “Was that $5?!”

Having my poverty called out like that makes me angry.

Me: “Uh… yes, it is.”

Boss: “Why aren’t you donating more?”

Me: “Why aren’t you paying me more?”

That was the quickest I have ever seen my boss shut down in the middle of his stride!

He didn’t bring it up again, and the new office manager thanked me genuinely for anything I could donate.

Related:
The Donation Perturbation