Dublin. This lunchtime. Blue skies and a warm day. stameen decides, after a relatively quick perusal of todays Irish Times, to head out of the office for some grub. Now, a sunny summers lunchtime in Dublin is a sight to behold. Noisy street entertainers, musicians, mime artists. The smell of decaying rubbish from the bins wafts through the Grafton St crowd. Sauntering through down the street can be seen several fine examples of Skangerus Hibernicus, a close cousin of Chavus Britannicus. Be still my beating heart! For there is hope! If you look carefully (but not too carefully, as unfortunately Id left my letching shades safely at home), fit lay-dees appear at all arcs of fire. A madman shouted. Happy days indeed. Or so I thought. (cue dramatic music) Out of nowhere popped this charidee type, looking for me to buy scratchcards for disabled kids or something. Now, as you do I calmy ignored her (though she looked ok enough) and continued towards the all-you-can-eat special awaiting me in a well-known hutted pizza chain. But something wasn't quite right anymore. After I finished, I headed back down Grafton St, and once again she made an effort in ensnaring me. Good feelings gone again. The plague of chuggers... What can be done to rid our streets of this pestilence?