A strikingly attractive buxomly blonde, dressed well, polite and smiling, uttered this as she approached, making eye contact and opening her arms in a disarming gesture.
Being single and having an hour-to-kill on my lunch it would have seemed rude to do anything but carry on the conversation – even if she did have her nose pierced.
But I'm not one to be fooled easily, as I've been playing a discrete version of 'British bulldog' with these charity muggers each day for my past 18 months at The Champion.
They have a name 'Chuggers' as wikipedia puts it “Street fundraisers that use various ways of asking for donations on behalf of a charity.”
Or more accurately, Urban Dictionary states: “Paid 'charity' street worker (student) who has been trained to believe that they are carrying out a worthy task, improving peoples' lives by conning Joe Public out of their money.”
They don't stop tracky-wearing hoodies, or penny-pinching old men, they target certain groups, mainly old women, single mums and people who look like they might have a bit of money.
I'm hardly Richard Branson but wearing a shirt and tie while drifting past these people on Chapel Street in Southport is like flaunting a red rag at a bull.
I've heard them all, everything from “alright mate, you seem like a nice guy” to “I only want a hug”, these social parasites prey on the rich, weak and elderly and look to leach money via guilt.
“There's poor children everywhere so give up just £3 a month,” they say as they gobble up their £12 an hour payment plus commission.
Not that I have anything against charities but thrusting a clipboard in your face while mimicking your direction and pace wearing an etched fake smile like a constipated clown is just too much.
If anyone wants to join me in a co-ordinated planned revenge attack on them with a supersoaker and some waterbombs then email david.raven@champnews.com
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