Mugged off by....well everyone really

I seem to be going through a phase wherein I am some sort of soft target for people. I suppose it started last week when I was on holiday in Tobago (tough I know - well I AM unemployed..) You see my problem is I am way too friendly - but I hate to seem like the stand-offish tourist who doesn't give a damn. But I have never successfully cultivated the 'bog off and leave me alone' look, having gone instead for the naive, vacuous look of 'whatever it is you've got to say, I'll listen'.
So last week it was a toss-up on what occasion I wasted most money: Was it the street corner old rummy who asked me to buy him a drnk? (I bought him two somehow). Or was it the hitch-hiker we picked up who was on his way to work, and turned out to be a 'guide'in the forest reserve - I use the term advisedly, as at one point I pointed at a passing flock of parrots. "What sort of parrots are they" I asked. "Ones that talk" he replied. Mind you, this is the same man who, when I asked him what was the difference between Methodists and Baptists (West Indians take their religon seriously) said that Methodists sing, but Baptists shout a lot.Ok he wasn't representing himself as a guide on the finer points of theology I admit. Anyway, after 2 and a half hours of trekking round the forest - and seeing a lovely waterfall - he declared we owed him TT500, but he would do a special rate of 420 - this in a country where the average hourly rate of pay is TT8. Now, whilst we were officially still 'taking him to work' at this point, we were somewhat naive to have not negotiated a rate before starting on this trek. After much arguing, in which my companion told me we should pay no more than 150, my soft heart yielded 180 into his grasping hand. He skipped off to his house.
But on reflection I think the worst spent money was on Alan, the beach rasta with teeth like the Lands End rocks. He wandered onto the beach carrying some strands of what looked like cactus and a wad of pirate CDs.A glance at my mate Blackie told him he was going to get short shrift out of the Geordie rottwelier. But who was that gullible friend of his sitting nearby? Five minutes later I have been smeared front and back with something looking like lumpy KY jelly, which he insists is 'natural aloe vera' and comes from these plants, and am also the proud owner of a CD entitled 'Barrington Levy - the Early Years', according to the badly printed bit of paper inside - you know,the legendary Jamaican reggae and dancehall star (according to his website), and am TT 30 lighter in my wallet.I regard it as a contribution to Alan's dental care plan.However, when I eventually DO inspect the goods back in the UK, what I am in fact the owner of, is 'A Six Pack for Christmas' by Goddy, which is not some kind of abs work-out as you might suppose, but a selection of Goddy's Christmas calypso songs, some of which are the same.Goody is so lacking in fame that a Google search turns up nothing on him, and if you hear this CD you will understand why.
So, yes - I am a mug. Mind you, despite several opportunities, I have yet to buy a timeshare anywhere. Anyway, I have to go now - and write an e-mail to a nice man in Nigeria who has just written to me promisig me a lot of money if I can help him transfer some funds.