On the Adulting blog there was recently a post about donating to charities and things you believe in. I say take this thought further.
Every dollar you spend is a vote for what shops become successful. I know that people are always spouting off “buy locally” diatribes but really, do it. Buy locally.
Hit up the farmer’s markets and the ma and pop stores with the hand painted signs. Small businesses are important, they’re usually better quality because they’re more accountable for their actions, plus it’s easier to talk to the owner or have special orders placed, you create a sense of community within your neighborhood, etc. etc. etc. So you save twenty cents at the big name box store. Think of that twenty cents as a bribe to the government to encourage small businesses to thrive. Or something.
In the same vein, do not give money to shops or charities you are unsure of or disagree with, even if you want to. I read about the mistreatment and sexual harassment of a major clothing store’s workers and so I won’t set foot in their store. I also absolutely refuse to shop in any second hand thrift store that donates money to churches or missionary groups because I believe they are destroying cultures and killing languages. And so what if they always have the best selection of used books? I will not give them my one dollar that will in turn buy one bible that will destroy all humanity. Just kidding but you get my drift. You don’t agree with something going on in that shop, you don’t shop there.
The other day on the bus I was sitting in a four-seater, like where two seats are facing two other seats which I just don’t understand. Why on earth would they build buses into the world’s most awkward social situation?
Anyway so I’m in the forward-facing window seat listening to Nick Cave and intensely reading Cloud Atlas on my e-reader because I’m super cool like that. I had my hood up and I mean, how clear do I have to be that I don’t feel like casually chatting with anybody, right?
This guy sits um … I don’t know the terminology here. When I was a kid my mom would say “kitty-corner”, like when he’s on the opposite side and the opposite seat? Diagonal? So he was facing backwards and in the aisle seat. And he has mega long legs. So he sits there with his legs spread wide open which is basically the worst thing ever because his knee touched my knee even though there was infinite other space for his legs to go.
I violently jerked my leg away, like so he could tell I meant “don’t touch me”, and yes there is a way to jerk your leg that says that. And it doesn’t look as dramatic as it sounds but it gets the point across.
But then he started staring at me. I think he was just bored and I mean, the bus was forcing us to basically have a tea party together so whatever, but like, gaze off into the middle distance, bro. Not stare right at my face. I could feel it through my book and it was distractingly creeping me out. And then he pulled the worst ultimate offence ever: