People write for different reasons. Some write to change the world, others write to quell some insatiable urge toward creative expression and others still write as an excuse to be an alcoholic.

I write for the attention.

And no time of the year is more difficult than the holiday season for people like me, folks who prostitute themselves for the simple little joy of being noticed. See, a lot of people are noticing me this time of year, and they all want money.

The bell-ringers outside every store I frequent, looking hopefully as I walk up from my car, and glaring ever-so-subtly as I walk past without a word. The cashier at Wal-Mart who actually caught my eye to ask if I wanted to make a tiny donation – I forget which charity, but balloons were involved. The adorable blonde at Barnes & Noble who asked if I wanted to buy a book to give to Toys for Tots – you better believe I shelled out for that one.

But there is such a thing as too much attention – I’ve slipped ten bucks into the Salvation Army bins at least twice this year, but since those folks lack any sort of global satellite network, all their buddies and co-workers fail to realize that I’ve already donated and continue to look at me like Satan’s poker buddy every time I walk past.

The legions of Wal-Mart clerks will ask me every time without fail if I’d like to donate, even though I’ve already proven myself worthy of glowing praise. The cute blonde doesn’t remember me when I come back.

And as the season continues and the weeks roll by, the requests get more strained. They’re tired of asking, I’m tired of hearing and, most of all, my wallet is tired of opening and closing. As often happens around the holidays, we all begin to hate each other just a little bit, until I find myself watching TNT and wondering why the Grinch doesn’t just stuff Cindy Lou Who into one of his burlap sacks to shut her up.

The way I see it, the problem is a supply and demand issue. These various charitable organizations aren’t getting the supply to meet their demand. It’s true – Toys for Tots is extending its deadline this year because they just didn’t get enough. Low supplies = creeping desperation = annoyed Sean. When you’re giving a charity a little something extra, you get a smile and a warm feeling inside your heart. When you give five bucks to the Salvation Army guy and get a grimace that says “That’s great, but we’re still way below our goal,” you just start to feel like you’re trying to bail out the Titanic with a Dixie cup.

I’m not made of money – I can’t just snag a bigger cup or a bucket and bail harder. But, perhaps if there were a few more Dixie cups out there, we could keep the Titanic afloat long enough for Kate and Leo to realize they don’t really work as a couple. And maybe the charity season would seem more like giving and less like begging.