I don’t know if I am a sucker, a nice person, or just plain stupid.

Just now a kid came knocking on my door. For the record, I cannot stand it when someone knocks on my door, especially someone I don’t know. The dog starts barking and won’t shut up, it interrupts my busy schedule of trying to make my posts XHTML valid, and I know I am going to have to spend precious minutes of my life convincing an annoying college guy (that’s who always knocks on my door) that I honestly can’t afford to help him, and I put myself through college so I understand, but someday he’ll graduate and be making piddlywinks for money like me and then he’ll understand why I can’t give him any money right now, I hope.

Tonight I was studiously ignoring the knocking at my door. Until I thought, well, maybe it’s my pregnant neighbor who keeps asking me to come over and visit. So I looked out the peephole, and did not see my pregnant neighbor, but instead saw a tall, gangly young-ish kid. I stared at him for awhile, very quietly, and watched him adjust his identification badge and fidget and look very nervous. After a moment’s consideration, I very quietly tiptoed away from the door.

I went back into my room to keep working, because I am trying to post something else that keeps messing up my tidy XHTML validation and it’s PISSING ME OFF because I was supposed to leave 51 minutes ago to go see a friend’s band play up in godforsaken Pacifica (godforsaken primarily because it is nowhere near me, but also don’t get the wrong idea, it is not as great as they try to make it sound).

Anyway, the knocking came again, and the dog started viciously barking, and I had to yell at her, and then I felt like an asshole for obviously being present at home and not answering the door. So I formulated a plan for getting rid of the kid as quickly as possible (which involved the dog lunging through the open door) and went to face my tormentor.

This kid had a story about 12-13 year olds and their basketball teams and how they don’t have any uniforms and all it takes is a $10 donation to help a kid for the entire year, and I could also pick from his tupperware container of KING-SIZED candy bars if I made a donation. I watched him tell his story, and kind of squinted at his ID badge, and looked at the old candy in his tupperware container, and tried to keep the dog from lunging through the open door (change of plans) and in general, FOR ONCE, felt kind of bad for the kid, because I always hear about schools’ athletics programs and how they have no money for uniforms and I always comment, “isn’t that sad and pathetic and why doesn’t somebody do something about that?”

But despite feeling bad, I am still dirt-poor, and haven’t paid my health insurance yet, and have run out of gas twice in the past few months because I can’t afford to fill up my tank, and I have neither smogged my car nor paid my overdue DMV registration fee, and so I told the boy all of that. Except I said it a little more nicely, like “I don’t have any money, and I would like to help you, but I can’t. Good luck.”

And he was so polite and slightly apologetic and obviously thankful that I was not rude to him and then he turned around and left, and I turned around and came and sat back at my desk.

AND THEN THE GUILT SET IN. Here I am, about to drive 104 miles roundtrip to go see a friend’s band play (and ugh, I have to fill up my tank), and I used to play basketball when I was a kid, and how embarassing to not have any uniforms because SCHOOLS DON’T MATTER to people in California, and I have spent ten dollars on less important things, and maybe I should stay at home tonight instead, and help this kid who is trudging around in the RAIN, knocking on doors (and who likes begging for money anyway, I had to do it when I was a kid and it sucked), and what have I done for society lately anway?

So I grabbed ten dollars (yeah, I had ten dollars) and went outside to look for the kid. And when I didn’t immediately see him, I had second thoughts - If I’m going to donate money, shouldn’t it go towards books or something more academic? Shouldn’t this money go towards my ramen and peanut butter allowance for the month? I AM POOR, after all. Shouldn’t I be asking him lots of questions about his school and write down his badge number in case I’m getting gypped?

I headed back towards my front door, and then decided, what the hell. I waited for a second, saw the kid coming back from another apartment, walked up to him and told him I’d help him. I didn’t even squint at his badge or treat him like I was doing him a huge favor. I just handed over the money and picked out some Red Vines from his tupperware container.

And I briefly considered whether I’d been duped, and then decided I didn’t care. I probably should, but I don’t. I’d like to believe that he needed the help and that I helped him.

Now I have to take a shower and go visit my friend’s band.