After an hour of Christmas shopping, I stepped out of Best Buy with bags full of commerce in my hands, and was met with the sound of an incessant jingling bell. I looked up slightly and saw three volunteers standing expectantly around a Salvation Army collection bucket. I felt a twinge of guilt, but my stride was steady as I passed them by. “Merry Christmas,” one of the volunteers called after me. In that instant, I questioned whether the volunteer was being sarcastic, or if she truly believed in spreading holiday cheer. And that got me thinking. Who turns wishes of holiday joy into indignant epithets? And really, what right does that lady have to judge me? I could be one of those people that never carries cash. Maybe I had already donated twenty bucks to another charity earlier that day. Perhaps I’ve been sponsoring a child in a third world country since 1998. Or maybe I run an orphanage and fund it with homemade “Free Tibet” merchandise.

Or you know, maybe I’m an over-privileged brat that couldn’t be bothered to drop a few dollars in the name of charity. Sheepishly, instinctually, I answered in kind. “Merry Christmas.”

‘Tis the season for winter guilt trips. Humbug.