When The Saints Go Trotting In

The pressures of homecoming are sinking in. As we approach the fateful day, everyone is rushing to find outfits, dates, and arrangements for beforehand. I've been with Sheryl for about two years now and our relationship was born out of homecoming, thus, it holds special significance to us.

(AWW LOOKIT HOW CUTE!)

This year her dress is teal and silver--I'm a fan of color, as many are able to tell by my brightly colored shorts. The trouble with teal, however, is it's darn-near impossible to match in tint and hue. The spectrum varies so greatly, and a feminine teal tends more towards green while a masculine teal is more blue. We decided to go shopping after school yesterday, and only after scouring Calvin Klein and Kohl's, the two go-tos for outfit shopping for men in my opinion, did we find a hope of a dress shirt at Nautica. I've been wearing Nautica cologne for about the entire duration I've been with Sheryl, so there's a familiar scent when we walk in and spray the Blue sample on one of the tester cards. At this point, I was reasonably discouraged, and began laughing when the shirt we found--seemingly the only shirt in existence to even closely resemble her dress--was a  XXXL. Nice. Never fear, though! They also had one in small... That's what to expect when perusing the clearance rack, I suppose, but everything else in that store is neon polos and funky hats. The fact that this shirt existed at all was a miracle--let alone in Nautica. Across the room, however, Sheryl spotted a large, just as I was slumping back into my discouraged former self. Checking out, the clerk--an extremely kind and smiley man who likely puts it on every day--asked me if I wanted to round my purchase up to the nearest dollar to donate to charity: water, a Nautica initiative. I've never been much for charity, but then, nobody has ever asked me to round my purchase and save myself from the strange decimal that attacks my obsessive side. No, I'm not going to pretend I'm the Messiah, come to save the Earth and its inhabitants because I gave 25 cents to charity, but I'm personally interested in it. From an economic standpoint, it's clever. People are more inclined to donate when it's in small quantities like that, and it's oddly appealing beyond the feel-goodery that charity brings most people. From a humanitarian perspective, I felt fuzzy. No, I didn't bask in glory or whatever it sounds like, but it was strange, the way they got me to donate. Self-sacrifice isn't my thing... on any scale. Still, I didn't mind all that much. That's sort of how I justify much of Objectivism, I suppose. There will always be the people who feel compelled to give to others, and I encourage them to if they feel good doing it, but I don't approve of people giving just for the sake of giving, because they feel as though they owe it to the world. I don't believe in the sense of obligation to care for the fellow man. I do approve of the fuzzies though. Those are mighty keen. Peachy, even.