"I'ma Holla Atcha, Bitch, Canya Hear Me??"

The above is a reference to Dave Chapelle's show, where he's got an older man who can say "hollahollaholla" incredibly fast. It's really funny, and I tried to YouTube it, but unfortunately, the copyright crap has kicked in, and I can't. The above is also in reference to a recent nonprofit experience I had where I ended up just not being able to take it anymore.

Now, I fully appreciate the annoyance of having people call you from the state troopers association or the DARE program or any number of non-or-seminonprofits wanting you to donate money during dinner time. But they aren't telemarketers or anything, and you can always say "No", politely, of course, and then tell them "Bye," or even better, "Have a great night." They won't hate you for it. They fully expect to get one yes for every 10 no's. And they aren't trying to make a buck off of you, they're trying to sustain a program that you'd probably be worse off as a community for not having around. But still, I can appreciate the irritation of the winter fund drive.

This, however, was no fund drive. It was called a Thank-a-thon, and it was where the United Way called everyone who donated to them and personally thanked them for their donation. It was an act of kindness and appreciation. How often do you get a letter or some sort of personal thank you for the money you send in? Not often. So, my job was to go down the list of people and say the script (which panicked me for 3 seconds because of my old call-center days) and thank them and get off the phone. I think I called 104 people in two hours. ::pant::pant:: Most people seemed astonished and pleased to be thanked. It was a warm, fuzzy moment.

I only had three people hang up. And it was because they assumed I was going to ask for money. By the end of the night, the third hang up just pushed me over the edge. Let us call her Carol, for that was her first name.

I call Carol and Carol's teenaged son answers the phone. I ask for Carol. He asks who I am. "I'm Virgil, with the United Way." A scuffle ensues. I hear Carol bitching about the following:

"I gave at work! Dammit, you give them your information once and they'll just hound you for money over and over again! Well, I don't want to talk to her. NO! Hang up on her!"

Click.

Oh, hell, no.

I'm tired. I'm cranky. I've been blabbing nonstop for two hours. I get through the last two calls of my shift, and I decide I'm calling Carol back. I was filled with wicked glee.

I call Carol back. This time her old man answers the phone, fairly gruffly, I might add.

"Yes, is Carol there?"
"Who is this?" Scruff McGruff says.
"This is Virgil with the United Way. I believe we got cut off." Silence. "I was just calling to thank her for her donation through her workplace. We are calling each person who donated tonight to thank them personally. We really appreciate the spirit and the attitude of her donation, and we are very, very grateful." Silence.
"So, could you pass that on to Carol? I'd really appreciate it."
"Umm...sure." Meek McGeek replies.
"Thank you. You have a great night."
Exit Stage Left.

Bitch, please. I'm trying to thank your sorry ass here. Shut up and listen. Better yet, grow some balls, Carol, and answer your own fucking calls.

It made my night.

-- Virgil