Once upon a few weeks ago, my lease expired, as those things have a tendency to do, and I came to the ostensibly obvious conclusion that my possessions needed to be less obnoxiously numerous. Thus like a good little donator I compiled different piles of stuff based on what they were – mainly books and clothes, some furniture and randoms – and figured, hey no problemo, all this ish could go to some local less fortunate stranger. Awesome. Good deed planned, I assumed charitable donations would be accepted at any time that Goodwill was open. Now I fully understand that they have hours of operation; they have to pay their workers, electricity, etc. This makes sense. What did not make sense was that they stop taking donations after five pm when they have employees running the cash register and texting while pretending to fold goofy graphic tees (one of which featured a ninja turtle who was either Michelangelo or Rafael depending on whether his head band was an orangish red or a reddish orange) until 9pm.

Strange: Apparently I was only allowed to give them free things when the sun was up to see it.

Further strange: Apparently even when I arrived before their posted gift giving daily deadline, they could decide to stop taking donations early and send me on my merry santa clausing way at 4:30pm.

Did they have all the stuff everyone needed??

Perplexed but still looking to donate my precious books after agonizing over the decision to liberate them, I yelped nearby donation drop offs and stumbled upon a Planet Aid. Having realized that perhaps my understanding of contribution etiquette was outdated, I called them up and politely asked about drop off hours and whether I was within them.
With a chuckle she clearly tried to smother, the answerer of my phone call jovially told me that as long as the lights were on, they were ready to take donations. Clearly I had previously missed the importance of light shining upon the good deed of giving! While Goodwill was slave to the sun, Planet Aid had outwitted that inconstant star and would happily allow me to be generous.

Going through the motions of bringing my boxes inside the store and into their separate drop off room, I passed through the actual store. Where there were large televisions hung on the walls so people could watch as they shopped. Feeling slightly confused again, I meandered under one of the many sets to see if I could find a price tag. They were not for sale. Which could only mean that this location had set aside money to not only collect donations and sell them back to those in need but to entertain those same poor unfortunate souls. It’s sad, but true.

There were lots of things I learned on my minventure to minimize my belongings. Some of them still bother me. And maybe I’m just being an elitist jerk in regards to what constitutes a necessity, (considering I was donating books), or maybe some of us are  focusing on the wrong things.

*shrug* I don’t remember TV being on the foundation tier of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

All of the thoughts,
Jessie Gutierrez

PS: This may be why I almost exclusively donate to wolfy organizations; the human ones usually leave me feeling less than helpful, more than doubtful .