T. GAMBLE: No, thanks, I’ll make my own contributions

I have reached a breaking point with retailers and the newest trends concerning checking out items I purchase. I will not reveal the name of the latest retailer that has caused me anguish, but here is the story.

I go to a big store — unnamed — to buy a large bag of dog food for my large German Shepard and other not so large dogs. I bring the bag to the counter and it is scanned by a very pleasant young lady. So far, so good. In the good ole days, she would now say, “That will be $22.48,” and I would pay and leave.

But we are no longer in the good ole days. We are now in the retail from hell days. She looks up and asks me if they have my phone number. Actually she just says, “Phone number, please.” Well, if I were 30 years younger, she was 30 pounds lighter, and I was not married, at this point I might say, “Here it is. Want to go out Friday night?” But I don’t think that was her intention.

In fact, I said, “No, thank you.” She then explained that if I give my number, she can plug it in and I’ll then get some type of discount on purchases, etc. I still said no. You would have thought I had refused a free trip to Jamaica.

“Sir, if you just give your number, you will save 10% on all further purchases.”

I still said no, as the line behind me began to grow and I sensed that all the other customers were thinking, “Give her the damned number and get the hell out of my way.”

She relented on this request but then asked, “Would you like to donate $2 to St Jude’s Children Hospital by adding it to the bill?” Listen, if I want to donate money to St. Jude’s, I will do it at my house, on my time and get credit for it. Instead this store will take credit for the $10 million they collected from customers and then gave to St. Jude’s.

The line, however, was now getting longer. Those in line looked apprehensive as they realized they were standing behind a man in a suit and tie who had refused to give 2 measly dollars to children who are suffering from cancer. At this point, Hitler would have been more welcomed in the check-out line.

All I wanted was to pay and leave, as I figured the line would follow me outside, being sure I’d drive away in a Mercedes laughing about the suffering children. I don’t have a Mercedes, but I imagine they thought this.

But, no, she then asked if I would like to round up my purchase with the upcharge going to Future Farmers of America. Oh, no! First the children, now the farmers. I was raised on a farm. My father is a farmer. I even farmed with my father. But I do not wish to donate by up-charging my bill.

Whatever happened to putting a jar on the counter and letting folks quietly put a little change in the jar? What happened to privacy in America? I realize folks now post on Facebook if they are getting hemorrhoid surgery, but I’d rather my business stay my business. Before long I’ll have to bring a financial statement to the check-out line and publish it before each purchase.

Well, I once again politely declined and sprinted away to my truck. Last I saw, the line was staring intently. They probably posted it on Facebook.