Yeah, I can see you standing there with your cheery clipboard and your happy upbeat face all ready to break out into some sort of hilarious and engaging repartee. I can see you desperately trying to formulate some way to stop me from completely ignoring you. I can see you pretending like I've not already decided to walk straight past you with a look on my face that says I just smelled shit on your shoes.
It's not that I dislike the cause you're attempting to raise money for. In fact, it doesn't matter one tiny bit to me which deserving bunch of trendy do-gooders you represent. You could be collecting for puppies starving in Africa, disabled whale children, or abused water pumps with Aids - I just don't care.
And it's not because you're some tiresome student tit who thinks that jumping in front of people and acting like a fist magnet is somehow endearing. (Although, let's be honest, your whole demented children's entertainer impersonation really isn't helping.)
It's not even because you actually expect some sort of response to whichever rhetorical question you're about to ask me. Do I care about deprived children? Do I think that rape is bad? Do I want the world to be a better place? Do I have just a few seconds to spare? Well of course I do. But that doesn't mean I'm going to slow my quickening footsteps to dignify your wretched entreaties with any kind of response.
Why? Well, because today I'm representing a charitable campaign of my own. Its mission? To prevent ordinary pedestrians from being made to feel like uncaring cunts for not handing over a bunch of cash to causes they've barely heard of when all they really want to do is buy themselves a sandwich for their lunch without having to justify their private moral choices to random clipboard-wielding irritants like you. Would you like to make a contribution?
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