“You should give the tickets to me.”

The other day, I was talking with an acquaintance about my latest trivia competition.  I’m currently playing in a nine-week tournament at Graney’s Stout, with the grand prize being four Jets-Dolphins NFL tickets and two nights’ lodgings at a Miami Beach hotel.

“Sounds like a really tough tournament,” he said to me.

“It is,” I said.  “And there’s no guarantee that I’ll win the tickets; the first-place team gets a certain number of raffle slips for the NFL tickets, the second place team gets half of that amount, and the third place team gets even less.  You get one raffle slip for showing up, so a team who comes in once and stinks up the joint still has as much of a chance of getting those tickets as I do.”

“Wow,” he replied.  “And you’ve played how many weeks there?”

“Three so far.”

“And how many raffle slips do you have?”

“Well, I won all three weeks, so I have 31 raffle slips.”

“That’s great.”

“Do you want to join me some time at Graney’s Stout?” I asked.  “It’ll be a lot of fun, I’m winning a lot of free food, and it’s a great atmosphere.”

“Nah,” he said.  “I’m not that good at bar trivia.  So if you win those tickets, who are you taking?”

“I haven’t won them yet,” I cautioned.

“Do the tickets include travel?”

“No.  Just the tickets and the hotel accommodations.  Travel is extra.”

“So you would have to pay for your flight,” he said.

I nodded.  “Yeah, I guess that’s what they mean when they say, ‘travel is extra.'”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“I’m listening.”

“Chuck, why don’t you just give me the tickets after you win them?”

What?

“I can fly down with three of my friends on Southwest and have a great time.  And it’s not like it’s a game involving any team you care about.  You’re not a Jets fan and you’re not a Dolphins fan, so there’s really no reason for you to go.  But you could make me happy and give the tickets to me.”

“This has to be a joke,” I replied.  “You gotta be kidding me.  Why should I do all the work and just hand you the tickets if I win?”

“Chuck, it’s not like you’re going to really use them.  You may as well give them to someone else and not let the tickets go to waste.”

Hold on… go to waste? If someone else use them, it’s “fun times and a great vacation,” but if I have the tickets, they’re going to go to waste?  Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, how much more condescending can one get?

I kept thinking about what he said.  And it wasn’t just about the tickets.  It was about all the times in my life where I’ve worked and struggled and tried to achieve something within myself.  And in doing so, I’ve asked others if they will help me achieve these goals and dreams.  And the responses have been mixed.  Sometimes it’s worked out and I’ve developed great friendships (Jeremy, Alexis and Marguerite from my Street Academy trivia team, f’rinstance).  Sometimes it’s been met with varying levels of laughter and ennui, or that people would rather claim the reward earned instead of joining with the beneficiary.

And I kept on thinking about this. Did I suddenly earn the lead role in the summer stock production of The Little Red Hen?  “Who will help me win the tickets?” “Not I,” said the fox… “Who will help me use the tickets?” “Me me me me me me me!” said the fox…

You think I’m simply going to give you what I’ve earned out of the kindness of my heart, of being a “good guy,” of being “Chuck the Chump”?  That if I give you these tickets, you’ll repay my kindness with your friendship?  That I have to “buy” your friendship, because I’m not good enough to have earned it for free? That there has to be some ulterior motive, that I’m just being “used”?  Or maybe it’s the “porkchop syndrome” of friendship – where I would need to wear a porkchop around my neck to get the dogs to play with me.

Pathetic.  Utterly pathetic.

Hey look, you don’t have to like me and you don’t have to love me.  But you do need to trust me, and in this moment, trust me like you would trust the morning sunrise.  If I win those tickets – and by “if” I mean that I’m going to claim as many raffle tickets as I possibly can acquire, and hope that the winning ticket pulled is one in my possession – I will go to Florida and I will watch the Jets-Dolphins game from whatever they’re calling Joe Robbie Stadium these days.  I might spend a day at South Beach and cook myself to a nice bright Florida sunburn.  I might check out some of that funky Miami art deco architecture and enjoy some sunshine and funtime.  And if I take someone with me, I know that the person I’m taking will not only enjoy the vacation, but he or she will also enjoy spending a few days with me in the process, and would have done so had the tickets been free or had we bought the tickets as a tour package.

As far as I’m concerned, this “little red hen” isn’t going to just hand over the freshly baked bread just because someone asks for a slice or four.

Not any more.

You want your chance to earn those tickets?  Come to Graney’s Stout and try your hand at Catch The Mania trivia.  First question is at 730p on Wednesday night.  And even if you just show up, have too many beers and write down that the capital of California is the letter C, you still get one raffle ticket for spending the evening at Graney’s Stout and playing the game.

As for the tickets… sorry for the rant.

I’m just tired of being treated like a post-consideration commodity.

And I’m tired of allowing people to treat me this way.

And I’m tired of letting them make me feel so low and worthless … that I would even consider accepting this treatment as common practice.