Chuggers are pretty scary aren’t they? You know, those tabbard-wearing lunatics who bounce up to you in the street like homeless puppies with a clipboard and a corny line to try to get you to sign up to a charity they know nothing about. The scenario as I often experience it goes something like this: “Hey pretty lady!” I avoid eye contact and side-step in a move I learned from ‘Dirty Dancing’, young man ingeniously anticipates my move and like Patrick Swayze appears before me with a well-practised beseeching look and his arms outspread disengenously, “Do you like animals?” he pleads. Now naturally at this point we all just want to tell them to ‘fuck off!’ don’t we? But we’re just too polite to actually do it. We mumble and stammer and try to crawl under their legs to escape or throw ourselves in the path of a bus, or we feign deafness, or foreigness or nip into the door of Anne Summers. Time and again I manage to give the boy the slip by laughing and saying ‘ I, no, I, but of course, no, oh is that the time, work, late ha ha!’ only to be caught in the flight-path of his female colleague who is an Amazonian woman in enormous boots and will not let me pass unless I adopt a panda/tiger cub/orphan/dog with distemper. They scare me, and I don’t much like them. Well I’ve found a way to escape them, and it always works. When approached by a chugger now who leaps in front of me and beams “Do you care about the environment?” I raise my arms to heaven and with as much zealotry as I can muster I boom “THE GOOD LORD WILL PROVIDE!!” They swerve out of the way as if they’re in The Matrix and the best thing about it, is if they see me again – THEY hide. Brave? Me? Shucks – you’re too kind.