Nipping out for a chug

I dropped down to Princes Street just now to pick up the remainder of my prescription and in the process must have been harassed about half a dozen times by people trying to give me leaflets for one thing or another.

I know that tonight, I will also be harassed by the “Record PM” guys and the “Charity Muggers”, now known by the slang term “Chuggers” who will try and convince me to set up a monthly direct debit to <insert name of charity here>.

Now I’m not against donating to charity or in fact taking advantage of the special offers presented on the flyers, however the amount of zig-zagging I’m having to do to avoid getting trapped in a conversation with these people is having a significant effect on the wear and tear on my shoes. Please take me back to the time when all you had to avoid was the Hare Krishna’s. They would press you for 2 minutes of your time but a polite refusal and a quick “Gouranga” and they let you go on your way. Now I have to compete with some annoying, full of beans, bouncy student prick who urges me to “smile” or says “Oh, come on, you must have a couple of minutes”.

From what I’ve read, most of them seem to revel in the title of “Chugger” and the challenges the job brings. Usually they are young, most only in their late teens or early 20′s.

Just as well they are young though, because if they had gone to school in the 1980′s (like I did), they would be aware that a “Chugger” was a completely different thing altogether in those days.

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