Attempting to put yourself at ease in the midst of these fears is Sisyphean to the extreme, and yet every single one pales in comparison to the point of this post, and the same could be said of almost any other fear you could name. Or even not name, depending on how many syllables derive from the Icelandic native tongue. Any person with even the merest semblance of social awkwardness will know well of that which I speak: high street charity workers.
We all know how it goes. You come out of HMV bearing proudly, if a little cautiously, this is still Bolton after all, a suitably environmentally unfriendly bag proclaiming your custom. This synthetic container will most likely hold a DVD, game, book or other some such product. And who do you see loitering a short way up the road, exactly where you need to walk? Someone who, whilst not even looking in your direction, is inevitably waiting for you. The red v-neck with 'Shelter' written on the back stands out as plainly as the extra pair of legs under Tiger Wood's duvet, and there is no doubt in your mind that the wearer of the garment will let everyone else go about their day. But you... you are going to have to sign away some of your hard-earned student loan.
The fear has already struck. How will you avoid them? What will you say if they try and stop you? What level of polite Britishness should you be going for? You want to avoid the guilt, but you already feel the guilt. They already have you in their vice-like Death Grip of misery. As soon as you saw that damn t-shirt, you knew you weren't going to sign up for anything. Let's face it, however reasonable they may be, and however generous and charitable you feel, paying someone for making you feel guilty is just going to make them think it's a good idea. And which of these folk are genuinely trying to help someone? Some of them are just trying to swindle you into buying their books on Krshna. God damn persuasive Buddhist guy...
You're damn right I'm still bitter about that!!
~ Fox
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