Attack of the clipboards

Portland is absolutely glutted with be-clipboarded do-gooders who sometimes stand three to a corner. They desperately want you to register to vote/ donate money to Obama/ save a dying child/ end petlessness.

In the block-and-a-half between the library and my train stop I side-stepped one man who wanted to register me vote (did it on Saturday), did a swoosh and dip to avoid a lady who wanted me to join Greepeace and ignored another woman whose heart's greatest wish was to register me to vote (I did it on Saturday! Sheesh!).

I was distracted by a street musician and totally fell into another clipboarder's trap. I didn't notice her clipboard at first, and removed my earbud because I couldn't hear what she was trying to say to me.

"Thanks for unplugging! I'm Jacquelyn. What's your name?"

Zounds! She asked me if I've ever thought of sponsoring a child. I told her I was actually sponsoring one. I don't know why I lied. Maybe it was because I've been approached by the folks at Children's International so many times I feel like the time I've spent listening to them is worth about the same as a sponsorship. Mabye it's because I have a friend who spent a day working for them and she told me what she thought about the people who said they couldn't afford to sponsor a kid. In any event, I regretted it as soon as the words slipped out. I suck at lying.

"That's great!" Jacquelyn said. "What country?"

Busted. She's a tricksy one. "Oh... uh... The Gambia? I think?"

"We actually don't serve children there," Jacquelyn said cheerfully. She went on to give me her pitch about how I can be a penpal with the child I sponsor, and actually go to the country to meet him or her. "Doesn't that sound great?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm sponsoring one," I said.

"So who are you sponsoring them through?" she asked.

"Um... I forget the name. A Christian agency."

"Really," she said, raising her eyebrow at my no-good, very bad, horrible lying self.

"Yep! Bye!" I said as I ran away.

Jacquelyn, if you're out there, I'm sorry for lying to you. You didn't deserve it. About a month ago I told one of your coworkers who managed to run into me thrice in the same day that I'd sponsor a kid as soon as I get another job or go full time, and I intend to keep that promise. Now if you could please get your ilk to leave me alone I'd be much obliged.