I ALWAYS get pulled over by the people with pamphlets and matching tee-shirts. Every time. Maybe I don't look away fast enough as I walk past: maybe I have some innate characteristic that makes me susceptible to their carefully strewn nets. None of this would be a problem (hey, I love a good cause!), except for the fact that these people are, for some reason, never interested in getting the support (not even the measly signature) of a person under 21 years of age. And they never stop talking long enough to hear me point out that I have not yet reached this auspicious age. Never. (Hey, just had a brainwave: maybe these people - who are usually foreign, in fact, usually British - have a special uniform for under 21s that isn't observed in this country?) So I stand politely, listening, waiting for them to pause, so I can point out to them that they have wasted both my time and theirs, because, even though I am legally old enough to both drink and vote, somehow I am too young to lend a hand to animal rescuers, or domestic abuse victims, or any of the 8 cancer foundations who have, on various occasions, taken a few minutes of my time. Maybe I should start a foundation with matching t-shirts and hand out pamphlets. The shirts would say 'I CAN'T HELP, SORRY, I'M UNDER 21' And everytime one of these lovely people pulled me over without reading it, I would solemnly hand them a pamphlet detailing my plight, and the plight of hundreds of young Australians just like me, out there, somewhere, suffering in silence. We will be heard! We must be heard!
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