My BS detector is going crazy…
Kasia November 26th, 2008
Last night after work I went to Kohl’s to return a couple of items I’d decided against. As I walked up to the entrance, I noticed a young man standing around like he was selling something or collecting petition signatures; but since I didn’t see any merchandise, didn’t have any cash, and wasn’t especially interested in a petition, I walked by. He didn’t say anything to me.
On the way out, he was standing in the vestibule, and this time he did address me. He was, he said, a sophomore at a local high school; and he was collecting money and signatures so he could go on a trip with other honor students to Washington, DC.
I stopped and considered this. It was the “signature” part that really flummoxed me. I mean, I’ve seen some pretty unconventional fundraising efforts; so standing outside of Kohl’s asking strangers for money, while unorthodox (and, I would argue, unsavory), was at least plausible. But why did he need my signature?
I asked to see any documentation he had. He showed me a flyer, pretty obviously created in Word or some similar program, with a picture of the Mall at the top and some information below. “Sophomore” was misspelled at one point. And the only explanatory information was sparse, very unclear, and crammed into a lengthy run-on sentence that was supposed to pass for a paragraph.
I asked him some questions. Like, why did he need my signature? He replied that it was to give “permission” (or some similar thing) for him to go. I stared at him, baffled. “Why does my signature mean anything to them?! I don’t even know you!” He admitted that he didn’t fully understand it either, but that “that’s what they told us” to do.
It was evening, and well past the point I could have called the school to confirm his story. I told him, after some back-and-forth, that I was sorry but that I would need more information before I could give him either money or my signature. He accepted that cheerfully and wished me well.
I called the school just now. I didn’t get a live person, just a voicemail (a lot of schools have in-service days today), but I left a message for the tenth-grade counselor, whose name, I am sorry to report, is not the same as the name listed on the flyer. But I guess there could be multiple tenth-grade counselors.
Anyway, I left her my name and cell phone number and a précis of what I was calling about. We’ll see if she calls me back. In the meantime, I’m taking notes of everything I remember – I’m almost certain not to hear back from her before Monday at the earliest, and there’s nothing worse than not having your facts straight. I sincerely hope the kid was on the up-and-up, and perhaps had just misunderstood the directions given him; but as of right now I’m not optimistic about that.
Very, very strange.
I would report them to the police.
Bizarre indeed – can’t wait to hear what you find out!
And have a Happy Thanksgiving, too!