Getting Lupus

My current residence affords me the opportunity to pay normal 20-something rent prices while living in a neighborhood of single family households bringing in $300,000 a year. At first I thought I was lucky. A garage, free laundry, ample space, a yard...all these things seemed to be exactly what I wanted. I wanted the quiet, the assumed maturity.

As it turns out I'm out of place and uncomfortable. A gang of 10-year-olds roams the block; every time we encounter each other brings an awkward standoff. They're not sure whether I'm an authority figure or not, I'm not sure that I won't say the wrong thing and they'll run home and tell their mommies. I wave hello to the neighbors, but know that they know me as the Ford Ranger pickup parked behind 'that eyesore of a duplex.'

Charitable organizations, however, don't see the difference. Canvassers come by about once every other week soliciting donations. All manner of worthy causes--health care for kids, clean air, clean water, save the trees, stop the mining--come to my doorstep assuming my income compares to that of my neighbor the chemist. I've always been one to sign their petition, write a custom letter to our senator, sign up for their email updates, and donate $10 to their cause. But when I ask 'What's your minimum donation?' they ask for $150. I say 'That falls under the category of no f'in way.' They look at me like I'm holding out. Like I make $100,000 a year. In most cases I end up turning them away; they give me a feigned 'thank you,' and I feel like an a-hole.

There are organizations, however, that don't ask for much. After being jilted by the door to door sales strategy of so many, I received a plastic bag from the Lupus Foundation of Minnesota. They ask for discards: clothes, dishes, linens, tools, etc. Just put the stuff in a bag and schedule a pickup. Excited to make a contribution, I gathered up a huge bag of clothes, set it by the door and felt content. Problem was I missed the pickup date, so the bag sat. Two weeks later I found another bag in the mail. 'Perfect,' I thought. I could finally get the lupus people their stuff. But this bag was from the Vietnam Veterans of America. A worthy cause, but not lupus. I felt that I'd committed these goods to lupus.

So I waited. I got lupus. I missed the pickup again. I got another bag from the Vets, a bag from the Courage Center. But I'm still waiting to get lupus again. Lupus people, if you're out there, I have a collection of t-shirts, pants, and 10 years worth of Christmas sweaters with the tags still on. Please! God give me lupus!