Helping people is a responsibility of every citizen, I believe. And I used to help everyone I could. I enjoyed the feeling I got when I reversed a strangerÃÂÃÂs awful day and turned it into something good. I've learned better since then. DonÃÂÃÂt get me wrong; I still agree with and practice the concept, but IÃÂÃÂm 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, IÃÂÃÂve 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, naive, and ready to take on the world. One night after spending my usual hour bathing, 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.
She appeared to be...