Heather Heathen

(I am a tourist visiting London for a few days and don’t have much money with me. A lady collecting money for a children’s charity approaches me.)

Lady: *sticks piece of heather wrapped in glad wrap down my shirt* “Here’s a piece of heather. It symbolises good luck and has been picked from the fields in Scotland. In return we ask that you provide a donation to support the local children’s hospital.”

Me: *angry that she’d apparently decided it was okay to stick plant material down my shirt but wanting to get rid of her and be on my way* “Here’s some change.”

(I hand her some admittedly small change and go to walk away, fishing the heather out of my cleavage as I do so).

Lady: *catches up to me* “I’m sorry, dear, but this is simply not enough! It won’t even cover the cost of making up the heather!”

(I toss the heather back at her and go to walk away again.)

Lady: *follows me* “Don’t you have any more money you could give as a donation? It’s not even worth me taking this!”

(I ignored her and kept walking. Honestly, what happened to the “every little donation helps” mentality? I really wanted to yell at her for her blatant invasion of my personal space, too, but I figured it would be absolutely pointless and I just wanted to be on my way.)