Hope for the Best, Expect for the Worst

Now if you thought my experiences at the PBR was enough to satisfy a weekend, boy you are in for a real treat. On Saturday, I went to a charity event for one of my high school friends who has been recently diagnoised with cancer. The event is not funny and I wish her the best of luck in her recovery, but for some reason I always find myself getting into awkward situations where there is always comedic value. First off, I showed up late and underfunded, meaning I did not have enough money to pay the admission fee. The admission fee was some what outragious, and I was under the impression that you go to donate as much as you could, not pay a fixed price. Also I didn't feel I should have to pay for an open bar which I was not drinking or present for the whole time. I know that might sound bad, but I wrote a check instead so I knew the family would get the money and not the bar feeding my alcohol addiction. I guess thats strike one.
Upon arrival, I wanted to give the appearance that I was there having fun and optomistic for the cause, but who really has fun at an event where cancer is involved? So naturally I made my way over to the raffle table. I spent as much money as I could on tickets, $30 dollars. The problem was I had two $20 bills. Now in any other situation where a transaction is made, both parties expect a precise amount of money to be exchanged for goods and services. This is not the case at charity events. Literally, there is no such thing as "change" at a charity event. The woman who took my $40, literally starred at me as I looked at her for the extra $10. Now I am not one to back down from any confrontation, so I politely asked her for the change. I shit you not, this woman looked at me like cancer was my best friend. The moment only lasted a second, but it felt like an eternity as she glazed into my incompassionate soul. The joke was on her, I sold my soul years ago so all she got was a man who wanted his money back. She then shuffled through her wad of money and informed me that she didn't have any change. Apparently she was suckering college kids from the beginning by only taking large bills with no change. So strike two. To recap, I have not paid the admission and have asked for money back at a charity event.
Time for strike three and let me tell you, I went out swinging. I was kind of frustrated at the whole raffle table incident, but I began thinking the glass was more half full when I started making drinks half empty. Note: I had got my friends to sneak me drinks who had the flourescent wrist bands symbolizing their investment... Sometimes the empire has to strike back. As my sobriety began to ebb, I began to dream about the splendor of winning some of the prizes available. I basically put all my tickets into the snowboard raffle. Now I don't snowboard, but the idea of lugging around a huge piece of sporting equipment at a charity event seemed too priceless to pass up. I mean think of all the attention I could have created with it. So as the charity co-ordinators announced the winners, I eagerly awaited the announcement of my name. I had already planned my entrance to the stage and what I would do when I got up there, raise the snowboard in triumph. Time went by, and I began to see the glass was really half empty. I thought, "Did they miss my name?" So I asked around if anybody had heard the most beautiful sylables in the English language, my name. They informed me all prizes had been given out. Now before I tell you what happened next, I would like the chance to explain the situation. During the whole raffle, it seemed the only names announced were people who were apart of the charity's planning coalition. My whole group made the same obvservation and felt cheated. With that being said, I quickly turned to one of my friends and said what I thought to be a murmur, "What a crooked charity event". As you can imagine, that was not the case and I instantly drew the death stare from everyone who heard. I tried playing it off as a joke, but lets be serious, that's as funny as saying the Holocaust didn't happen. In the end, I did not feel any better leaving as I did entering, despite the fact a lot of good was to come out of the event. More importantly, my presence was extremely overvalued by my friends in an setting where I cannot thrive. I guess what I am trying to say is this, I am a tiger, and you can't have a tiger as a pet. Tigers belong in cages and when you let them out, they will eat your face, just ask Seigfreid and Roy. So is there a lesson learned? Of course! Sometimes its better to phone it in, or mail it in. Till next weekend.

Excessively Pleasant