And online, it's even worse. Go on Amazon, and they want you to select a nonprofit to which a portion of your purchase dollars will go—you know what? That's not bad. I'm happy to do that. (I picked the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.) What I really mean is Facebook. On Facebook, it's even worse.
The last time I logged on, Facebook informed me that six of my friends had birthdays that day. Then, before I could view my feed, I had to click through this:
- Jennifer is fundraising for the Roadkill Hospice Center for her birthday! Would you like to donate?
- No? Alex is fundraising for Hands Across the Atlantic Ocean for his birthday! Would you like to donate?
- Would you like to donate?
- Would you like to donate?
- Would you like to donate?
- Would you like to donate?
If you accidentally click no when you meant yes, don't worry: Facebook will ask about each one again every time you go on Facebook for the rest of the day.
After feeling like the world's biggest skinflint within twenty seconds of being on Facebook, I was finally allowed to view my news feed. What were my friends up to?
Jeremy was promoting a GoFundMe campaign to buy a baby dolphin a new kidney.
Lisa was pushing a Kickstarter to raise funds to buy Christmas gifts for all the Jewish kids in her neighborhood.
Patty was asking for donations to her neighbor's nephew's girlfriend's Indigogo campaign for funds to dye her basset hound pink in honor of breast cancer awareness.
So, do all these relentless gimme money requests work? Here's the thing: I'm not above it. I ask for money every year to raise funds for the National MS Society. And if I'm being completely honest, 2018 may have been my best fundraising year yet. But my appendix also ruptured six days before the event, so some of that may have been sympathy donations because I couldn't physically do the MS Walk.
Here's one thing all of these donation requests have been successful at: I've stayed off social media for a full two weeks now just to avoid them. So I guess they are doing good after all!