Helping People; Not Always in Your Best Interest.
I used to believe in helping everyone I could. I enjoyed the feeling I got when I reversed a
stranger's bad day and turned it into something good. I've learned better since then. Don't get
me wrong; I still agree with and practice the concept, but I'm much more adept at it now that I
have gained experience. Even though I was the rescuer, it seemed like I always had to pay a
personal price for being kind to people. After suffering much heartache, embarrassing episodes,
and personal loss, I've learned that giving help to my fellow human beings can be a risky
endeavor if not approached correctly.
Long ago, when I was still green behind the ears, I enjoyed spending most of my
evenings out on the town. I was eighteen, naÃÂÃÂ¯ve, and ready to take on the world. One particular
night, after spending my usual hour bathing and fixing myself up, I was eager to go bar hopping.
As was customary for me, I slipped behind the wheel, dressed to kill, and sped down a long, back
country road. Suddenly, rounding a sharp curve, I came upon an old, economy sized vehicle,
pulled off onto the grass. There were no shoulders on the side of the road this far out. A well
dressed, shapely woman stood nearby. She appeared dumbfounded and bewildered, staring at
her vehicle. I instantly felt sorry for her; stranded and helpless, miles from any service station. I
was confident that I could fix her problem, save the lady in distress, and spend my evening
feeling good about helping someone out. I also hoped that I might impress her. I pulled up in
front of her vehicle and hopped out, ready to assist, and conquer any challenge.