tatjna (tatjna) wrote,
tatjna
tatjna

Dodging the rattly buckets

I'm feeling kind of spiffy today in my lace-trimmed military style fitting jacket thing that I bought in Africa, and a short blue-and-green skirt. Colours! Spring!

I'm told the weather is going to crap out but currently it's lovely. Unlike two other days this week, I came prepared with stockings so the weather can do its worst and I'll still be warm. Nyah.


No, not the Courtenay Place drunken gaggle gauntlet - the other one. Lets call it the Public Transport gauntlet. You see, if you take public transport to get to work, chances are that at some point you'll pass through the hub of the train station and bus station, and walk along either Featherston St or Lambton Quay, or round the waterfront, to get to your destination.

It seems the marketers, charities and whatnot have figured this out. It's a rare morning that I can walk through the station without someone trying to hand me a flyer or a free sample, or a charity collecter waggling their bucket at me, or the presence of a busker. The other morning I was feeling particularly curmudgeonly and had to restrain myself from stopping and explaining to a flyer-waver that what they were doing is real-life spam, and also killing trees, and would they care to inspect the nearest rubbish bin for evidence of that? But I didn't. I know, please give me a chest to pin my medal on.

This morning in the railway station, I passed FOUR collectors for the SPCA, a busker (who was quite good), and some people handing out free copies of the DomPost. You should have seen the guy's face when pombagira absent-mindedly took one, then realised what it was, turned around and gave it back. Heh. As we wandered workwards, we encountered half a dozen more SPCA collectors and another free-paper-handerouterer.

And it really does feel like running the gauntlet. I'm not sure of the wisdom of trying to nab people first thing in the morning and get them to give you money or read your flyer - I know I don't like it and pretty much ignore them (or actively put up a hand and say 'no thanks'), because if I didn't, I'd be late for work with empty pockets every day.


Related - I read somewhere that a study was done comparing the donations from appeals for animal welfare vs women's refuges. I can't find it right now, but apparently animal welfare charities consistently get more money than domestic violence ones. Food for thought.

My weekend is shaping up to be all about sheep. Turns out I won't be stilting on Saturday night, since a) the only stilts with shoes that fit me require someone with larger legs to be firmly attached, b) it would not do the company's reputation any good to have me sprawling across the bonnet of someone's BMW due to not being fast enough on my.. er.. feet? spikes? amongst a crowd of potentially drunken revellers, and c) I'm shearing the next day and the pain from the aforementioned wobbly stilts would potentially make this harder. A good decision all round, I think.
Tags: charities, styly!, wobbly-ass stilt performers
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