I was eating lunch with two of my friends when we were approached by a girl selling tickets for a dance, interrupting my explanation of the theater related jokes in an SNL skit. One friend purchased tickets, while the other didn’t.
“Monica, would you like to buy tickets?” she said with this adorable Girl Scout appeal to her posture.
“No, thank you.” I said, turning to continue the consumption of my sandwich.
“Why not? You should go to the dance.”
“I have…” I searched around frantically for a reasonable excuse. The excuse of I’m seeing a show wouldn’t work since the only show running that weekend only has matinee performances, nor would the excuse of a doctor’s appointment since no one sees their doctor at eight o’clock at night.
“I have essays on theater to write,” I said charmingly.
“But the proceeds for the dance go to the school newspaper, which is in financial trouble,” she said, before leaving.
There were several things that bothered me about her statement. For one, I’m well aware that the school newspaper is in financial trouble. I write for it and am writing a piece on why newspapers are important. Second of all, I’m not aware of there being a dance to benefit the troubled school newspaper. I’m sure I would have heard of something while looking past my computer, out the window to watch either the snow fall or someone being arrested.
But this enticement that the girl gave me made me feel like a hypocrite, similar to the hypocracy I felt going to The New York Times website everyday for my news.
Granted, I don’t feel like a hypocrite for that anymore. You must realize how contradictory it is to be standing on a soapbox screaming “Save print media!” while going on to a website for my news. I get to read the print version of the Times everyday now, thank you. But it never shocks me how many of my fellow writers, even my editors, get their news from a website.
Maybe I am a hypocrite. But my social awkwardness is calling at the moment