… having spent the morning as one. I found myself figuring out the demographics of those who did and didn’t contribute.
Almost all over-60s of both sexes did, be it 20p or a pound - and I got caught up in more than a few conversations about the kittens that various old biddies were looking after. (Yep, that’ll be me in 30 or 40 years.)
I was surprised that most of the 20- to 40-something men who passed also put money in the pot (and no, I don’t think it was anything to do with me being the collector, much as I’d like to flatter myself).
But the group that on the whole walked straight past without making eye contact (except for one who actually smiled at me a couple of times and /still/ didn’t contribute) were women of my own age. And I felt rather ashamed of all the times I’ve avoided charity collectors in the street. Chuggers, fair enough, but there’s no real excuse for not putting 50p or a quid into the collecting tins, especially because the causes being collected for are generally worthwhile ones. (I do usually put small amounts of changes, 20p or less, into the collecting tins in shops.)
So I’ll be changing my ways. Next time I go past a collector when I’m in the town, I will put my hand in my pocket and put some money in their tin, and proudly put a sticker on my bag (come on, I’m not going to wear one - I do have limits).
Also today, I am mostly … listening to the rugby
via internet radio. And I wish I wasn’t bothering… England are hammering Wales most embarrassingly. I don’t think I’ll bother to watch the televised high- (or low-) lights later on.
