The Florida State Trooper group called me tonight, at 8 p.m., I might add, asking for donations. I politely told the guy that we can barely afford food and paying the rent, no thanks in large part to the damages done by the hurricanes. The guy was persistent though, saying that instead of the usual $35 donation, there are minimal packages that I can donate to, because there are officers that are getting killed in the line of duty and they are doing a crucial job to protect society.
I can fully understand the monumental task police officers and troopers go through each day, and if I had money, I would gladly donate, but I don’t. The guy kept badgering me though. He had a distinct Texan accent, and since I can mimic one very good, I decided to switch to my Authentic Texan Accent and said, “Now sir, if yer can guarantee that you won’t be pullin’ me over an’ look the other way when I’m breaking the law, I’ll gladly donate ten dollers to yer dern charity thing.”
He apologized for wasting my time and hung up. Next year, if I have money, I’ll make it a priority to donate. For now, I need to make it a priority to keep my refridgerator as less bare as possible. I got me dern shotgun by me trusty trigger finger in case any dern hooligan decide to be ransackin’ around here.