Thursday, December 11, 2003

Increasingly when I have been wandering around Westfields looking for new shiny gew-gaws to keep me distracted from reality, I have been stopped by young attractive women in uniform with foreign accents. Lucky you, I hear you cry, but there is a catch. They all want money. Specifically they want me to donate to a charity, like save the children or feed the leopards or man the yardarms or whatever. Now, I give money to charity. Not much, I'll be the first to admit, but I'm willing to fork out over a worthy cause. But the problem is, that isn't enough for this latest breed of, lets face it, beggars. That's what they do, they beg for money. I'm not judging, merely pointing out the facts. They don't want me to hand over a lobster and go on my merry way. Oh, no. They want to sign me up and take money out of my bank account automagically every month. Deary, me, where DO I sign up for that? That sounds like a great option. I'd LOVE to have my wages garnished. Kind of like paying child support for children I never had in a country I've never been to. And when I refuse to give someone access to suck money out of my bank account at will, they accuse me of being a typical man and afraid of commitment. Well, I am, but they don't know that.


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