As an On-The-Street Fundraiser (!) I spend my days standing on various streets around Dublin and sometimes other places like Monaghan (I seem to be spending a lot of time in Monaghan. If life is trying to send me a sign that I should move there its getting ignored. New York is way better looking). I am what is sometimes known as a chugger. I, however, am one of the nice chuggers who isn't allowed chase people down the street or say 'oh, too broke to give 21 euros a month eh...yeah...nice watch by the way, is it new?'. Bummer, I know, but its actually nice working for people who are doing something good for the world.
Seeing as I'm not allowed to move around, I have been told to find a spot and stay there, kind of like a hoe defending her corner. No, it doesn't say that in the manual but its totally what they meant.
I've had some interesting customers in my previous jobs, one of the most memorable being the old man in Reads who brought in bookmarks with poems on them that he wrote for his dead wife who was killed by a car outside on Naussau Street, but working on the (da) street is definitely where you meet the weirdies. Here are some of the things that have happened so far:
- A 60 something American man wearing reflective sunglasses told me he worked for the American government, so I said 'ooooh, are you in the FBI?'. He gave me a long hard look and said 'how did you know?'. He told me he worked for the Seattle branch and was very impressed with my detection skills, so impressed in fact that he told me to come to Seattle when I graduated and join the FBI. He was very serious.
- A woman who, when asked if she had a minute to spare for Concern, replied with 'actually, I'm writing a socio-feminist novel that'll probably divide society as we know it forever when it comes out, so no, I'm kind of busy'.
- A man who accused me of being personally responsible for the death of unborn children because I work for a charity that promotes 'population control' (a.k.a. as trying to prevent the spreading of AIDS). He read my nametag and repeatedly said my name. He got it right and everything, he didn't even call me Sarah.
- That was also the same day a junkie came up behind me, pushed me out of the way and told me to 'GET A BLOODY REAL JOB!'.
Note:I just took a break from writing this blog and signed up my parents friend in the living room. Kind of resentful that I am not wearing my anorak coz its too warm.
Anyway, if ya see me on the street, its ok to avoid me, just say 'I'm avoiding you'. The worst is the people who make you feel like you actually are invisible. Sometimes this job can be a series of existential identity crisis moments. But its a job, and kids in child labour are being sent back to school, and I'm saving money for the big escape...so for now I'll keep defending my street corner. Watch out bitches.
