This happened at Birchwood Mall in Port Huron, a couple weeks before last Christmas (2017). I saw a woman's red shoe in a trash can. I knew the other one would be somewhere (it was), along with the box the new ones came in (it was), that their Canadian owner wore home. On both sides of the border, you don't have to pay customs duty on clothes you're wearing.
I applied some critical thinking to the situation. The Salvation Army can always use a pair of old but wearable shoes, and I don't want to carry these around all day. Up the mall, I noticed a pair of bell ringers, a man and woman my mom and dad's age, from the Greatest Generation. Against my better judgement, I asked the guy with the bell if he's mind dropping the shoes in a collection box, take them off my hands so I don't have to carry them to Walmart, and then to Home Depot while walking all the way in the cold to save the 80c bus fare. He shook his head and said "no, I'm not going past one." Then, after some negotiation accompanied by a lecture from me on the importance of always saying THANK YOU when you're wearing that red Sally Ann thingie and ringing that bell and someone offers you something, he said he'd take them. At that point in the drama, I said NO, if you think you're doing me such a huge favor, I WILL TAKE THEM.
Jesus Christ . . . I never had that much trouble giving anything away. The Greatest Generation, my Aunt Sadie. Christmas always does bring out the best in people, doesn't it? Especially right here in America's 1,109th best small city.
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