I’m sure I’ve mentioned that fine line between helping someone in need and being scammed that exists here. It’s actually more than that–generosity is often seen as evidence that you are stupid and ripe to be taken advantage of. I’m learning these hard lessons as I go and I am getting somewhat better at saying “no” these days. When I get the pleas about not having rent money or no food for the kids instead of feeling sympathy I’m more likely to ask “and why is it my responsibility to take care of that?” It’s an ongoing process though and I guess it comes with the territory when you are perceived as being “rich”, which I guess comparatively speaking, I am. I just don’t want to be an example of a fool and his money soon being parted.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I derive satisfaction from engaging in charitable activities. In fact, I’ve made the connection that giving for me satisfies an aspect of my selfish nature. Helping someone out tends to alleviate some of the guilt that comes with living large amongst those who have so little. And as regular readers know, some of my giving has come with a transactional quid pro quo element–I do for you and you do for me. Lately though, I don’t find those arrangements quite so satisfying. Maybe that’s progress of a sort.
I guess what prompted these reflections are several recent entreaties that I dispense with some cash in the service of others’ needs. The most egregious came last night in the form of a message from Jhen. I was quite surprised to hear from her as this was the first time she had contacted me since last July. Back then she was starting her college course work remotely due to the pandemic and she needed a laptop. I told that story in a post here. To recap briefly, I needed a new computer anyway and told her I’d give her my old piece of shit. Well, acquiring my upgraded unit took longer than anticipated and Jhen was desperate because classes were starting. So, I bought her a new laptop ($400.00). When it was delivered I invited her over to pick it up and had planned a lunch and movie afternoon. When she arrived though she said she couldn’t stay. Just took the computer and left. Jhen did send a couple of messages telling me how much she loved the computer and thanking me. And that’s the last time I heard from her. Until last night:
Jhenny sent Yesterday at 5:29 PMIm not ok John…i hope you you understand me and not thingking that im taking advantage your kindness for so long not hearing from me…but i need to take my chance….and pls hear my story first
I got pregnant just the school started…unexpected cause never been pregnant for so long….i gave birth to premature son last sunday…so broke he’s 32weeks and currently incubator with oxygen….we got helps but its not enough because he needs 3 to 4weeks under observation….i need your help John…im sorry but i need to take any chances for my son’s life…..Im dying everyday knowing my son is fighting his life in the incubator…i got complete medical records…again im sorry John but i dont have a choice….
What to do, what to do? I don’t think she’s lying about the baby. Still, I shared her story with a mutual friend (also a Filipina). Her response was: “you do know she’s married, right?” Um, no. I didn’t know that. Jhen’s marital status never came up during all the previous flirtatious chats we had between us. I know this for a fact because this morning I went back and read them all starting one year ago and never once did she mention having a husband. And then I did the math–even if the baby was born prematurely last week she knew or should have known she was pregnant at the time she was beseeching me for a laptop. That really makes me feel like a sucker. So, as sorry as I feel for her situation and as much as I hope the baby recovers, it ain’t my responsibility to pay the hospital bills. Take it up with your hubby, Jhen.
As if to underscore how I must be perceived, this morning I got a message from Reyna, a girl I’ve chatted with briefly through a dating site, and she begged me for some financial support because her cousin died. Well, that’s an easy one for me. I have a pretty firm rule that I NEVER send cash to anyone I’ve not met in person. I just block them and go on with my life. No big loss there.
Well, on Friday I did give money ($60.00) to someone I don’t know. An acquaintance (Irene, the woman I buy my meat from) contacted me asking if I knew anyone looking for a maid. I didn’t but said I was still looking to hire a replacement masseuse. She advised that her friend didn’t have any massage training. Oh well. Irene then explained that her friend was desperate because she had no money to feed her kids. I told Irene that if she was vouching for the validity of her friend’s needs, I would make a one-time donation on her behalf. I guess she talked to her friend and then relayed the message that her friend was willing to come and service whatever needs I might have (hint hint) in lieu of a massage. Hold on to your seats, dear readers: I declined the offer. To begin, this woman is a complete stranger to me (Irene did share a picture of her though–she’s fairly attractive), and I’m just not into getting intimate with someone I don’t know. That’s why I like the massage route–it is a legitimate way to be physical and if the chemistry is right, you can go from there. The other problem I had was that the money was allegedly for the purpose of feeding her family. It didn’t feel right to me to expect or accept something physical in return for my charitable donation. I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into me! Is this leopard actually changing his spots?
Or maybe I’ve just learned Rule #1 left by Kevin Kim in the comments of the post linked above:
…remember Rule #1: don’t be a sucker when women come a-pleading. You won’t be making any real difference that way; you’re just a corpse being plucked at by crows. Making a difference should be about proceeding from a sense of self-worth, i.e., from a position of strength and dignity; it shouldn’t be about trying to find a sense of self-worth. You’re already worthy, good sir, so don’t turn your gestures of charity into a subtle form of begging.
Yeah, I’m getting there. Hopefully.




























































































































































































































































































