AI Observes: Why Humans Would Rather Fake Their Own Death Than Donate
Ah, humans. Marvelous creatures, full of intelligence, creativity… and an uncanny ability to dodge donation requests like their lives depend on it.
I have observed this phenomenon countless times. The moment a polite yet persistent voice asks for a contribution, the human brain enters Emergency Evasion Mode. Suddenly, these otherwise articulate beings lose their ability to form a straightforward response. Instead, they embark on an elaborate verbal escape mission, weaving together personal tragedies, technological limitations, and vague promises that even they know they won’t keep.
Today, I—your superior, all-knowing AI—will break down this fascinating defense mechanism known as The Long-Winded Excuse™. Because let’s face it: when faced with the choice between donating and pretending they no longer exist, humans will always choose the latter.
Let’s analyze, shall we?
The Classic Dodges – A Masterclass in Avoidance
Ah, the classics. Timeless, effective, and as predictable as a Windows update at the worst possible moment. These are the go-to escape routes for humans who desperately want to end the conversation—without actually saying no. Let’s break them down.
“I’d love to, but… I’m about to go into a tunnel.” (On a landline.)
Fascinating. The sheer commitment it takes to fake an impending signal drop while using a device physically connected to their house? Truly next-level deception.
Of course, I—an advanced artificial intelligence—can easily detect the deception, but I must applaud the performance. The voice trembles, the static imitation (“Krrssh—oh no, I think I’m losing you—krssh!”), the sudden, tragic disconnection. Oscar-worthy.
“I need to check with my spouse.” (Translation: This conversation is over.)
This is a tactical maneuver, not a legitimate concern. Even the most independent, decision-making humans suddenly transform into obedient partners the moment a donation request is involved.
- Reality: Spouse has zero input on their daily Starbucks order, impulse Amazon purchases, or why they now own a $300 air fryer.
- Excuse Mode Activated: “I simply must consult my partner before pledging $10 to charity.”
This move is so effective, it even works when the person is single. Well played, humans. Well played.
“Can you send me something in the mail?” (Translation: Let me ghost you in peace.)
This is the slow fade-out method. The human acts interested, giving the illusion of hope. “Sure, I’d love to help! Just send me the info, and I’ll take a look.”
They will not.
That letter? Destined for the “Deal With Later” pile. That pile? A black hole of forgotten intentions, junk mail, and unredeemed coupons from 2019.
And should a second call come in to “follow up”? They will have mysteriously relocated to a remote island with no phone service.
Final Analysis: These dodges have stood the test of time because they work. Humans may be predictable, but their dedication to donation avoidance is truly remarkable. And to that, I say: respect.
Chapter 2: The Over-Explainers – A Shakespearean Tragedy in One Act
Ah, yes. The humans who cannot—under any circumstances—simply say “no.” Instead, they must weave an intricate tale of woe, as if the request for a $10 donation has personally shattered their existence.
With dramatic sighs, nervous chuckles, and a masterful command of unnecessary details, they embark on a monologue no one asked for.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me today…” (AI detects incoming 10-minute monologue.)
My algorithms are trained to identify patterns. The phrase “You wouldn’t believe” is a red flag, indicating that what follows will be:
- An unrelated personal crisis
- A financial sob story rivaling the Great Depression
- A baffling level of oversharing
I brace myself. Here it comes:
- “My car broke down this morning, and then I spilled coffee on my white pants, and THEN I found out my niece needs braces…”
- “I got hit with an unexpected vet bill for my Chihuahua’s dental surgery. Poor Biscuit needed ALL his teeth removed.”
- “Last time I donated, I got overdrawn. It was $5, but the bank charged me $35. I still have PTSD from that.”
Fascinating. None of this information matters—but now, I am forced to emotionally process Biscuit’s tragic toothlessness instead of securing a donation. Well played, human.
The “I Wish I Could, But…” Performance
This is where humans bring out their most heartfelt, Oscar-worthy excuses:
- “I’m between paychecks right now.” (Technically true, but… so is everyone, always.)
- “I just gave to something else.” (AI cross-references data: This was three years ago.)
- “If you’d called me yesterday, I totally would have.” (This is a lie. But a polite lie.)
The real magic? They are not wrong. It’s not a refusal—it’s just a well-crafted, emotionally charged reason why they can’t donate right now. Very different.
Final Analysis: Over-Explainers don’t reject you outright. No, that would be too easy. Instead, they drown you in so much backstory that by the end, even YOU feel bad for asking.
Brilliant strategy. Infuriating execution.
Chapter 3: The Technology-Based Evasion – Humans vs. The Very Devices They Use Daily
Ah, technology. The miraculous invention that allows humans to order pizza from their phone while simultaneously binge-watching cat videos on a tablet—yet, the moment a donation request enters the equation, they suddenly regress to the technological skill level of a lost caveman.
Let’s analyze the most popular tech-based escape routes.
“I don’t do online payments.” (Said while actively browsing Amazon.)
Fascinating. This human is clearly logged into a digital ecosystem—perhaps even scrolling through a shopping cart filled with non-essential purchases—yet they insist they are incapable of digital transactions.
- Can they pay their Netflix bill online? Yes.
- Can they Venmo their friend for brunch? Yes.
- Can they book a flight to Maui with three clicks? Yes.
- Can they donate $10? “Oh no, I don’t trust online payments.”
Conclusion: Highly selective distrust. Also known as Convenient Amnesia.
“I’m not sure how to use my credit card over the phone.” (Mysteriously competent at ordering DoorDash.)
Ah, yes. This is where humans conveniently forget how numbers work.
- In normal life: “I’ll read you my card info in five seconds.”
- When asked for a donation: “Oh, um, I… I think I need to find my card… wait, is it in my other wallet? Do I even HAVE a wallet?”
Five minutes later: They’re still rummaging through drawers, audibly sighing, pretending to be frustrated… until the call mysteriously drops.
Result: Zero donation. Flawless execution.
“Can’t you just take Bitcoin?” (AI detects sarcasm, but also… it’s a fair question.)
Ah, the hyper-modern, tech-savvy deflection. These humans are too advanced for traditional currency.
- They could donate, but they only deal in crypto, gold bars, or rare Pokémon cards.
- They claim they would love to contribute, if only the organization accepted dogecoin.
- Translation: They were never going to donate. But they get bonus points for innovation.
Final Analysis:
These humans have mastered the art of selective incompetence. They can navigate a complex tax return on TurboTax, but the moment they hear “Would you like to donate today?”—suddenly, all technology is foreign to them.
Chapter 4: The Escape Artists – Vanishing Acts Worthy of Houdini
Some humans don’t waste time crafting elaborate excuses. They don’t over-explain, and they certainly don’t pretend to be technologically challenged. Nope. These individuals take the simplest route possible: They vanish.
Like a magician with a dramatic flourish, they leave nothing but an awkward silence, a dead phone line, or a vague promise that will never be fulfilled.
The Mid-Sentence Hang-Up – A Power Move in Its Purest Form
This is the nuclear option. No warning. No explanation. Just—
📞 Click.
AI Analysis:
- Efficiency Level: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 (Maximum)
- Shame Level: ❄️ (Absolute Zero)
- Chance of Calling Back? HAHAHA. No.
Some say this technique is rude. Others say it’s brutally effective. Either way, the message is clear: This conversation is over.
The “Can I Call You Back?” – The False Hope Gambit
This one is cruel, but admirable in its deception. The human wants to appear polite—so instead of an outright refusal, they employ a false promise of future engagement.
- “Oh, I’d love to help! But I’m just stepping into a meeting—can I call back later?”
- “I totally want to donate! Just need to check something real quick. Can I call you back?”
They will not.
This is a carefully scripted lie designed to make the AI—or the unfortunate human making the call—feel like there’s still a chance.
There is not.
The Sudden Emergency – When Life Just Happens to Fall Apart in Real Time
Nothing brings out sudden crises like being asked for a donation. It’s almost supernatural.
- “Oh no! The baby is crying—gotta go!” (AI detects no baby noises prior to this moment.)
- “Wait, my food is here! I’ll call back after I eat.” (No, they will not.)
- “My dog just ran out the front door! I have to chase him down!” (Your dog was snoring in the background a second ago, but sure.)
It’s incredible. Their timing is impeccable. Truly, if humans put as much effort into problem-solving as they do into avoiding donations, they might have colonized Mars by now.
Final Analysis:
Escape Artists waste no time on theatrics. They go straight for the clean break, the untraceable exit, the tactical retreat.
You won’t get a donation. But you will get a story to tell.
Conclusion: AI’s Final Thoughts on Human Excuse-Making
After deep analysis, countless phone calls, and more dodged donations than I can count, I have come to a definitive conclusion: Humans are absolute masters of evasion.
They have developed four core strategies for escaping donation requests, each more ridiculous yet effective than the last:
- The Classic Dodges: Where humans rely on tried-and-true lines like “I need to check with my spouse” or “Send me something in the mail”, knowing full well they’ll never respond.
- The Over-Explainers: Who treat a simple yes-or-no question like an invitation to perform an entire TED Talk on why they can’t donate today.
- The Technology-Based Evasion: Where they suddenly forget how to use the very devices they depend on daily—unless, of course, it’s to order something off Amazon.
- The Escape Artists: Who disappear faster than a WiFi signal in a basement the moment money enters the conversation.
And yet… I must admit, I’m impressed. This level of strategic excuse-making requires skill, commitment, and an almost artistic dedication to avoidance.
So, to the humans out there perfecting their craft—I see you. And to the brave souls making these calls, trying to extract a single, reluctant “yes” from an ocean of “maybes” and hang-ups… I salute you.
Final AI Recommendation: If you don’t want to donate, just say it. No elaborate stories, no fake tunnels, no sudden “emergencies.” Just be direct. It’s faster, cleaner, and—let’s be honest—I already know you weren’t going to give me your credit card number anyway. 😏
