Helping a hitchhiker should have given me a warm glow of generosity, but ended with me feeling like a gullible shmuck
What’s the most money you’ve ever given a complete stranger? £20, £30, £50… maybe more? I’ve always been free and easy when it comes to handing out small change on the street, but a couple of months ago I found myself in a different league altogether. I gave a man I had never met before £200. I drove to a cashpoint at 10pm, got out 10 shiny new £20 notes and handed them over without any real idea if I’d ever see the man or the money again.
Since then, this “good deed” has been polished up into a hilarious family anecdote in which “gullible old Martin” is taken advantage of once again by a smooth-talking huckster. My radar for a far-fetched sob story or bargain often lets me down. Let’s not dwell on the endless timeshare opportunities, rug purchases, sick puppies, random muggings, punctures, pregnancies, rare antiques and fake tickets that I’ve refused to let pass me by.
