Being helpful is a good thing. Yet there is also a saying, “Too much of anything, even a good thing, isn’t necessarily good.” And there is living proof of this in the local nutjob I refer to as “Mr. Helpful” (name changed to protect the utterly aggravating).
While it seems sometimes that I am his favorite victim, in all honesty he’s a very equal opportunity irritant. Any time he perceives a need, he’s all over doing something to make sure that need is fulfilled. If he sees you in a new car you can be sure he’ll be over within the hour with a long list of car insurance companies complete with information on their most popular policies and pricing structure. Sneeze where he can hear it and he’ll be over in a jiffy with a bunch of home remedies.
The problem with him is that he doesn’t accept the fact that most of the time people do not want or even need his “help”. He’s convinced that the world will somehow collapse if he’s not there to patch it together.
And before you suggest it, I (and others) have already tried several times to convince him that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. For that matter, I’ve yet to convince him that his diet drinks could land somebody in the hospital. He continues to swear that his great grandfather had awesome success with that vile concoction.
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