The Callous Bullying of Chuggers

Just leave people alone

I staggered from the doctor’s office, feeling fairly grim.

My digestive issues were playing up, my skin almost translucently pale, my innards inflamed; I felt headachy, breathless and exhausted.

Despite my efforts to drink enough water, I was so dehydrated that it was only the skill of the phlebotomist that finally yielded enough blood for the three collection tubes demanded by the crumpled piece of paper clutched in my clammy hand.

I trudged slowly around the corner, and as the doors to the mall slid welcomingly open, my stomach dropped in dread.

Chuggers.

More bloody chuggers.

A chugger, if you’re not familiar with the term, is a Charity Mugger.

You know them well, I’m sure. They make every trip to a mall and its environs a painful and excruciating escape room.

They infest this particular mall on a weekly basis; unfortunately my GP resides on the outside of that same mall, ensuring I must make visits there from time to time.

Centre management seems to favour these practitioners of predation far more than their paying customers.

I noted them dourly as I plodded towards the entrance.

The bully children of the consumer era usually position themselves smack in the middle of this particular entranceway, but I was somewhat relieved to see these new faces over to the right instead, allowing a distance of perhaps twenty feet between them and me if I stayed to the left.

Surely room to slink past them unaccosted.

Grinning at their target — I was the only person within view — Bully One and Bully Two tried to catch my eye.

When it became clear I was steadfastly refusing to look and was going to be past them and free of their callous clutches in a few more seconds, Bully One (the female) shouted in a resonatingly loud and sarcastic tone “HAVE A LOVELY DAAAAYYYYY!!!”

My shoulders stiffened at the bitchy, contemptuous taunt.

Not content with her prey escaping unaccosted, she wanted to see to it that she managed to irritate or disturb a passing stranger.

Still moving, I tossed back over my shoulder “Shove it!”

After a brief, disbelieving pause she shrieked “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!!”

And I turned.

“I said SHOVE. IT.” I enunciated clearly. “Shove. It. Got that?”

A taste of their own medicine

As Bully One began hysterically squealing some frothing nonsensery, Bully Two chimed in with a petulant shout “You’re a horrible person, you’re rude!”

As I marched towards the table, Bully Two’s face was painted in a self satisfied sneer.

I’m usually far more pithy and practised in self defence against verbal abuse, but my insides felt so swollen I could barely draw a good breath. Their unexpected onslaught had found me in a weakened state.

It occurred to me later, that, as well as jeering at me, they’d likely have noticed the bandaids and cotton wool on my arms from my various needle incursions. But that didn’t trouble them, of course.

“Just leave people alone!” I hissed “Stop harassing people in malls. You don’t have the right to harass people!”

Bully two smirked “Actually” he smugly replied “We do!”

“Actually” I emphatically replied. “You literally do not have the right to harass people in malls”.

“Actually” he grinned, contempt dripping from his lips “We do!”

And then he muttered quietly “You Karen cunt”.

I’ll be honest, I’m not absolutely 100 percent sure about the cunt, as he snarled it quite quietly and the blood was currently pounding in my ears.

Oh, did I mention I also have a heart condition. Not that this would have stopped them, of course.

And as we know, Karening women is a fun free for all for ageists and misogynists intent on abusing middle-aged women into silence.

Bully One — who had created the whole drama — now had the look of a thunderstruck, tantrumming toddler who could barely believe someone had said NO for once.

She was sullenly silent, her face a picture of resentment throughout the rest of the exchange she had initiated. Not quite brave enough to continue mouthing off straight to my face — but lacking the self awareness to even hint at embarrassment or apology.

Chugger Abuse — Why Do We Tolerate It?

Why does Australian society currently demand that we acquiesce to these foul behaviours when all we want is to go about our business?

Why pretend that it’s normal to accost and attempt to emotionally blackmail another person into purchasing something they neither want nor need?

Why is society so filled to the brim with cry bullies and people too afraid to defend their own boundaries?

These types have always existed, of course, but now the public is expected to respond to aggressive exortionist tactics with politeness. In simpler times their ilk were generally met with a “Fuck off” — and accepted it as an occupational hazard.

A long ago chugger, back in the Glasgow of the 1990s comes to mind.

I had made the deadly mistake of hesitating when he greeted me, and he was in, like a rat up a drain pipe.

It’s likely he wasn’t being paid and was actually a chegger — a charity beggar. Back then, they were often volunteers.

That’s now rarely the case. The sly cockroaches of today are well paid for harassing strangers into handing over their details.

To even apply for the job of chugger in today’s world you must be either a) utterly desperate for employment or b) or an over entitled clown comfortable with trampling on the rights of others and making their day just that bit more miserable and difficult.

These two well fed, comfortably dressed, confidently upper middle class youngsters were not from column a.

The way we were

The cheggar who accosted me long ago in Glasgow, was far from being the first or the last —but his exchange was memorable due to his baffling arrogance.

As I was handing my donation money over, he apparently felt I didn’t look as enthusiastic as I ought.

“You can afford a donation you know!” he declared in an accusatory tone.

“Yes, I can afford to give you some of my money because I worked for it” I replied, rather surprised at his nerve.

He wisely closed his lips, but I could see it was a struggle for him. If I hadn’t already passed over the money, I would have given him nothing.

I wrote it off as a learning experience, and thus began my life long detestation of entitled cheggers and chuggers.

The charity mugger of today might generally — if not always — avoid profanity or outright violence, but that does not make them polite, and it does not make them respectable.

They are sniggering extortionists with enormous self entitlement, and the cause they are fundraising for is completely and utterly irrelevant.

It’s. My. Money.

I worked for it and I owe you absolutely nothing multiplied by zero squared.

Targeted

I once read a post by a reformed chugger who explained that they target middle aged women, because we tend to be more empathetic and kind.

I am absolutely empathetic, and kind, to those who deserve it.

And I am not a doormat. And I am nobody’s whipping girl.

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I do give to charity, I always have.

The first time I set up a monthly charity donation was to Plan International in 1993, whilst living in London. We carried that donation with us overseas and for many years supported a boy called Yobu Ssendi, until the poor little chap died from a measles outbreak. We then supported his brother James Kalanzi until he aged out of the program.

Over the years, I have made regular pledges to many different charities. These days one of my monthly donations goes to the Endeavour Foundation, who assist people with disabilities to find employment, housing and opportunities.

This is not by way of a humble brag as I’m certain most of you engage in similar activities.

I am merely making the point that it’s not charity I take issue with.

It’s chuggers.

And that’s quite another thing.

Never give to chuggers

A few good reasons why I don’t allow chuggers to relieve me of my funds:

• A reasonable chunk of my donation goes into the chugger’s pocket for pay.

• Many charities have massively inflated administration fees — including the cost of contracting businesses who employ chuggers.

• Other administrative fees ensure that large chunks of donor funding often won’t make its way to the intended recipient.

• Many charities now are very politically motivated. If a charity wants my money they must avoid lecturing me on any other topic and stick only to the charity work they do.

• Chuggers make the lives of everyday people that little bit more miserable, and should not be encouraged in that endeavour.

Before handing over my hard earned dollars to a charity, I engage in due diligence, check their bona fides and have a good sniff around their website and socials.

Throughout my life I have always truly believed that to give freely is to be blessed.

But that doesn’t extend to coercive street scavengers.

Back to Bully Two

And so, enjoying his sly, misogynistic, ageist retort immensely, and apparently oblivious to the fact that he was behaving abusively, Bully Two then snatched some merchandise from his table, and provocatively waving it in my direction goaded me in sing song voice “Would you like to buy one?”

I admit my own voice was raised as I ignored his tormenting tone and growled “Just leave people alone!”

“You can go now” he sneered and flicked his hand at me.

I, who had been about to turn and go, of course replied “I’ll go when I please thanks. I guess we’ll be here all day, won’t that be nice?!”

And gazing at his sniggering snarl, I saw nothing of the decent human in him.

Not all villains wear a mask

The exchange ended as once more with raised voice I repeated either “Just leave people alone!” Or “Stop harassing people!” I can’t quite recall which. The whole thing took only a few minutes, but it certainly took the shine off my day — and I sincerely hope it did the same for Bully One and Two.

Humans are not one dimensional.

I’m sure that to those worthy of his consideration, Bully Two can be perfectly amicable. He certainly seemed of normal intelligence and had nothing overtly disagreeable about him — aside from his attitude.

But one thing they all seem to personally lack, despite targeting it in others, is compassion or empathy.

Both were so comfortably set in their entitlement, that they could simply not comprehend that they have no legal right to harass people going about their business in Australia.

And no moral or ethical right to harass anyone, anywhere.

“Chuggers not allowed to irritate or annoy.”

'Chuggers' accused of harassing customers face restrictions in city's CBD
Charity muggers, or "chuggers", often attract the ire of local businesses,

“Fundraisers must not behave in a way that might be reasonably interpreted as forcing a member of the public to enter a conversation against their will.”

So self absorbed that they could not grasp the simple reality that people going about their business have a right to do so unimpeded by them.

Chuggers are paid bullies

author created ai

Chuggers are trained in hard sales techniques and that sort of job attracts a certain sort of person.

True volunteers, and organisations who genuinely care about the charities for whom they raise funds, such as the RSL and other socially conscious groups, act from quite different motivations and are far less aggressive.

Make a donation - RSL Australia
Please donate to help us support our past and present servicemen and women, and their families - no gift is too small…www.rslaustralia.org

Sadly, these days, true charity volunteers are few and far between.

And let me quite clear — having charity status is no excuse for employing the tactics of contemptible harassment, and in fact causes that organisation reputational harm.

Find an ethical way to support your causes. And keep your excuses to yourself.

Being rude to the rude brings you down to their level

No. It doesn’t.

They sideswiped me. I became reactively irritated and distressed in response to their deliberately provoking overtures.

They forced an interaction with someone who had made it abundantly clear they didn’t want to talk to them.

As with reactive abuse, reactive irritation is caused by the offending party.

Once you’ve been unpleasant to someone and deliberately transgressed their boundaries, you have absolutely no right to complain about them defending themselves.

So what’s to be done?

Nothing will be done, that’s the sad truth.

I will continue to ignore every chugger I see, or respond to them as I see fit, depending on my state of mind and general health on that day.

And to all those who might try to claim I should see it through their eyes I say again — No.

Don’t harass people for money. It is invasive and unethical to try to coerce strangers to hand over their bank details when all they want to do is get to the chemist.

You haven’t the faintest clue what’s going on in a stranger’s life. I am the peaceful citizen minding her own business. You are the invasive pest attacking my territory. I am under no obligation to tolerate the intolerable.

And as I make my weary way through my fifth decade, I find myself becoming increasingly intolerant of street harassment, in all its many forms.

I am terribly tired of being pestered because I have an approachable face and am, in their estimation, that least dangerous of all humans — a middle aged woman.

All I want to do is walk through the world, going about my own affairs, quietly and without fuss.

First, as a child and all the way through womanhood, I was tormented by a certain type of man.

And all throughout my days have been harried in the street by beggars, cheggers and chuggers.

Beggars, at least, are sometimes sympathetic. Sometimes dangerous and sometimes abrasive, but now and then they do evoke compassion.

On the train a few months back I glanced up into the forlorn face of a woman begging for a dollar or two. The words on my lips were “I have no cash on me”, but one look at her poor, tired countenance and humble, lost and pleading eyes moved me. I searched and found a few dollars and wished her well.

The only response chuggers will ever elicit is disgust, irritation and despair.

And so ends the small and unimportant tale of Alison’s ruined morning.

These browbeating bloviators destroyed my equilibrium until the late afternoon. In my sickly and enfeebled state I didn’t have the capacity to brush off their repugnant overtures and was annoyed by not having a pithier riposte to their taunting.

But I can hope at least that my distress was not for naught.

Perhaps Bully One and Bully Two — who appeared rather shocked by my resistance — will think twice before contemptuously badgering other law abiding citizens who are clearly trying to avoid them.

I doubt they’ll have been learned the true lesson they really need to learn, however.

And so this goes out to all the chuggers, defenders of chuggers and wannabe chuggers out there who are busy making the world a worse place one kiosk at a time.

Just leave people alone.

It’s a simple enough lesson.

Learn it.

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