Why I’ve been telling canvassers I have to poop

The only thing perhaps more discouraging than the conclusion of another forgettable day of wading through an endless retention pond of incompetent emails, is seeing the eager grin of a canvasser standing firmly between your train stop and your house. The prying eyes and glowing iPad want nothing more than a quick hour and a half hour of your time, your credit card number, and a simple monthly payment that will process until you die. Certainly a decision best made after riding 40 minutes sandwiched between two fucking slobs on a pee soaked, fart filled CTA train.

Instead of succumbing to the corresponding heckling experienced if you walk by without acknowledgement or god forbid offer a slight nod and politely mouth “Sorry,” I’ve been telling these leaching insects that I have to poop. The conversation generally goes something like this:

Canvasser: Hi do you have a min…
Me: I have to poop, sorry
All consuming silence

Bowel movements function as the ultimate defense mechanism against anything you don’t want to do as there is virtually nothing to say or do if someone is on their way to poop. It can be assumed if you’re telling them about it, there is some sense of urgency or at the very least a regularity that needs maintaining.

Not to say donating to any cause isn’t worthy, obviously with the appropriate research, helping those less fortunate circumstances is a fundamental necessity for all humans. But being ambushed and then humiliated for not making a decision to donate, after a filthy iPad with a poorly made infographic is shoved down your throat on your way home from work is an entirely different circumstance.

Pooping freed me and it can free you too.

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