No Dough My Dear

Fundraising on the company dime. The majority of working parents are guilty of it. Boosterthon, FunRun, Girl Scout Cookies, the middle school football club, the high school basketball team or the underwater basket weaving society. They all need money. Fundraising is a numbers game and there are a great number of working parents who see money inside a corporate skyscraper. It is filled with people. Working people. Reliable people. Direct deposit people. People with fucking jobs who cannot stiff anyone they see on a daily basis. Fertile grounds for a fundraising predator.

I see a lot of money in this place.

Except I’m the prey who says no...

 

No to your cookies. No to your fun run. No to your kid’s team. No to your cure for cancer. I don’t care if you are the equivalent of Stratton Oakmont in the world of fundraising, the answer is no.
 

 

Shove these Thin Mints and Do-Si-Dos right down Corporate Joe's fucking throat!

The proximity of work personnel along with their financial security makes fundraising uber-convenient in cubicle land. A mom or dad can knock it all out in one location. Most people cave. The pernicious stalking is tolerated since it is tied to a charitable cause. I’m sure the principle is worthy of raising money. Children will benefit, the world will be a better place, and I can sign up in the time it would take to brew a Nescafe coffee packet. For me, none of these items matter. My fierce resistance is for the sole purpose of compartmentalization.
 

 

Honey, I'd just rather not talk about work today.

No personal business at the place of business. I am not writing a check no matter how noble the idea. The reason is I am already in work debt. I owe my co-workers deliverables, a promised meeting, an updated excel spreadsheet or a round of drinks on the corporate AMEX. What I refuse to owe them is money from my personal account. Not a single cent. When it comes to finances, personal life and corporate life are mutually exclusive. Never the twain shall meet.

Arrived home from work today. My son's soccer team has a signup sheet for candy bars. Do you know who likes candy bars? My co-workers. I'll cast a wider social net and go one step beyond all the people I answered with a "No". Many working parents don't live by the same rules I do. I'll post this sheet in the pantry tomorrow.

Just sign up, damn-it. It's for my kid's soccer team.