Sweet Charity

I was very proud of myself yesterday when I managed to stop myself from being extremely abusive to one of those charity-collecting tossers who roam through town centres in packs, trying to pick off the weak-willed and soft-hearted from the shopping herds. You know the kind - they all wear identical T-shirts and hold clipboards and approach you asking "can you spare a minute sir/madam?" Clearly, they're all deaf as none of them pay any attention if you say "No", instead continuing their pursuit of you and your bank details through pedestrianised areas. This particular charity predator just kept on coming despite two "No thank you, I'm afraid I don't have time" statements from myself, and made the (near) fatal mistake of trying to use the fact that I was carrying a copy of The Guardian, to ingratiate himself with me. Now, I may be a card carrying socialist Guardian reader, but that doesn't mean that I have any ideological commitment to the concept of giving my money to charity, so trying to appeal to me as "a fellow Guardian reader" really isn't going to do any good. Indeed, as a socialist I'm actually opposed to the idea of services for the underprivileged, vulnerable, etc being provided by charities - this is the preserve of the state and is what I pay my taxes for! OK, I know we don't live in this ideal world of universal welfare provision and, sadly, much of this provision is left to charities, but simply thinking that my liberal conscience can be used to get me to sign up to any passing charity is downright offensive!

Anyway, getting back to this charity pillock, for a split second I thought of actually explaining all this to him, then I thought, why waste your time he won't listen, and even if he did he wouldn't understand, so just hit the sanctimonious little fucker. Luckily for him, I decided that perhaps violence wouldn't be appropriate (there were more of them than me), and walked on. The last time someone tried a stunt like that with me was when I worked in London, when I had to endure a stream of invective from a Big Issue seller at Waterloo Station when I declined to buy a copy from him. Upon seeing that I was carrying a copy of The Guardian, he launched himself into a stream of abuse claiming that I couldn't be a real Guardian reader if I wouldn't help the homeless, adding that I was "a fucking middle class bastard" who "didn't give a shit about anybody else". All because I politely declined to buy a paper I didn't want from him. I just thank God that Evening Standard vendors don't carry on the same way - I would have spent several hours a day getting that kind of crap! Actually, I could understand it more if one of them had gone off on one at a potential customer's refusal to buy - why wouldn't someone want to buy a newspaper which might conceivably contain something of interest (unlikely, I know, but there was more chance of finding something worthwhile in the Standard than in the Big Issue), from somebody who'd just use the money to get drunk with, rather than buy drugs and get completely off their face? Once again, I didn't resort to violence; I just complained to the station management and Transport Police and by the next day he wasn't selling his rag there anymore.

As ever, I've strayed somewhat from the original point I was intending to pursue - the whole business of charity and how we're conditioned to feel stigmatised if we don't want to give. I'm no different to anyone else here - this past month I've been bled white by charity collectors knocking on my door demanding money with menaces - which is probably why the pratt in the town centre made me so angry. Its the way the collectors just assume that you'll want to contribute - rattling that tin or envelope at you with that sanctimonious look on their face, just daring you to say "No" and slam the door on them. The trouble is that they're usually someone local, who'll put the bad word on you if you don't give - you'll start getting hate mail and having dog shit put through your letter box. But really, I don't think that it is unreasonable to turn most of these buggers down. Sure, they're all good causes, but the fact is that my day job doesn't pay that well and surely I have a right to decide what I spend my disposable income on without some do-gooder trying to make me feel guilty if I don't think of 'those less well off'? There are charities I support, but I don't go around shouting about it - it is an entirely private matter as to what and how much you contribute to, in my humble opinion. I can't support every bloody charity! So stop knocking on my door, accosting me in the street or sending begging letters, or I might just get militant and start sticking dog shit in those Christian Aid envelopes!