The Power of Me

Recession, right. 'These days, that's how it is,' we keep hearing. Or, 'but with this economy, people need all the help they can get.' Right right right. But apart from living in a bubble where all of my bills are paid, and being unsure whether or not I even notice that we're in 'recession,' though everyone keeps saying we are, I still have an opinion on this outlook. The outlook I refer to is that in 'these times,' we need to help others as much as we can. I personally, however, am taking this opportunity to be as selfish as possible.

Take Dominicks for example. I have a relationship with this store in that I visit it every so often (I go much more frequently to Jewel Osco, but don't worry, it doesn't matter). Usually I go to the Dominicks in between Illinois and Grand near the AMC movie theater in River East. This is so that I can get snacks for whatever movie I'm about to indulge in on a Monday in the middle of the day when everyone else is at work and hating their lives.

But though I like Dominicks in that they are there where I need them to be, they piss me off. You see, they ask for me to donate to causes and such. But how do I have money for that? I'm about to go to a movie, which even at matinee prices is nearly 10 ducks these days. And also I need the snacks! Christ, even with 'this economy,' a 5 oz carton of greek yogurt is still over $2. I mean I could probably churn the shit for cheaper than that (maybe I'm thinking of butter). Donate to a cause?

I'm not entirely sure what cause I'm asked about. Maybe prostate cancer. Let's say it's prostate cancer. Weeks ago, there I am at the checkout line at my trusty Dominicks. And I'm pretty sure the only and the only reason I don't go through a self checkout machine is because they don't have any. So damn, I need to actually talk to someone to get my illegal in the theater snack fare.

Before this cute, admittedly she is hopelessly cute, chubby latino lady gives me my bottom line balance, she says, 'Donate to prostate cancer today? A dollar or two maybe?' And she peers up at me--she is short afterall, short and stout--through her little glasses and the flesh around her eyes.

I take inventory of how much cash I have with me, but who are we kidding, I probably wouldn't donate even if I had dollar bills coming out of my nostrils. I'm selfish, that's the point of this blog. And I mean too, come on it's a dirty trick: putting me on the spot like that.

I'm cornered. If I say no, I look like an asshole. And there is this woman who is blonde and has a baby standing there behind me, waiting for me to answer whether or not I want to donate to prostate cancer. When I refuse, she probably thinks about how her cooing little baby there is going to grow up in a world of never ending recession and hate. Can't say I blame her. That's exactly what the kid is getting.

But I guess it doesn't matter that we're in recession. The point is that I'm kind of selfish. And I do feel a twinge of guilt as I gather my belongings and stuff them into my sack and frolic along across the street to the AMC. Who knows what I am about to watch. Probably something horribly frivolous like 'Ghosts of Girlfriends Past' or some such. As I give the theater cashier my money for the ticket, I grin at her and I tell her thanks so much, and to have a nice day.

I'm so excited about this movie and my snacks, I hardly even remember we're in a recession.