Friday 18 November 2011

Chuggington Corner!

Chuggers tend to remind me of a sequence from much loved eighties flick The Monster Squad. The Wolfman makes a sudden appearance and seems to have one of the squad cornered (the fat kid, as far as I can recall, who was supposedly this flicks Chunk from The Goonies). The rest of the gang shout for him to kick the Wolfman in the nuts. Fat kid replies the Wolfman hasn’t got any nuts. They all shout out kick him in the nuts anyway (hmm, I don’t recall The Monster Squad being so pantomime) to which fat kid lands his big square foot square between where Wolfy’s plums should be. The Wolfman howls in pain allowing fat kid to make his escape.

Dodging charity muggers involves a somewhat similar gambit. Most don’t have nuts (being female) and success in avoiding their cornering tactics remains reliant on your ability to metaphorically kick their idealistic, transparent rhetoric square in the balls by breezily walking past them with little concern for their plight. Success is usually met with their howls of derision and a look that’s supposed to devour your soul as you continue unmoved down the street. Look, I said somewhat similar to The Monster Squad…

Chugging is a rather pointless endeavour. Not only does it miss the whole point around the concept of charity (giving voluntarily), it also gives chuggers a misplaced sense of self-righteousness. Just because you’ve been given a cue-card to base your preachy sermon around does not give you the right to look down upon everyone else as utter bastards. Perhaps peeps don’t have the time or inclination to talk to you about the charity you’re representing. Some may, y’know, already be particularly generous making various donations to other charitable organisations. Others, as is their prerogative, simply might not care. One thing’s for sure, cold calling on the street is more likely to lead to people giving the charity you’re working for a much wider berth in the future. Typically because chuggers are smug, charmless, insufferable, irritating tits…

Equally annoying are other methods of extraction employed by more shameful charities to help kick your guilt reflex into action. It reminds me of a time, as a piss poor student, where I was donating a fiver a month to the NSPCC from my much needed student ‘beer fund’ loan. A couple of months into providing this regular donation I received what was essentially a begging letter, clouded by emotive language and pictures, asking for a more significant contribution. I cancelled my Direct Debit immediately. The NSPCC have been struck off the list ever since, no matter their worthy agenda. In comparison I’ve never seen a chugger representing or received a contrived begging letter from the MS Society. Perhaps this is why my donation shifted to an organisation that doesn’t harangue those making a regular contribution – they’re actually grateful for the fact people are willing to give voluntarily without coercion.

And that’s what charity is about. Giving to a cause that’s meaningful to you in someway because, sadly, the average person on the street doesn’t have magic pockets stuffed with more money than they know what to do with. We can only give so much too so few. So, my annoying chugger friends, particularly the ones outside the Sainsburys and Boots opposite Holborn station (also rather inconveniently right next to my office), please give up and fuck off. You’re in the West End where everyone’s rather liberal and cool anyway, and likely already give to worthy causes. You’re preaching to people that sympathise but think your methods suck big hairy donkey balls. Let us decide for ourselves and give back the meaning of the word ‘charity’. Otherwise, we’ll start kicking you in the nuts for real…

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