Sometimes we do stupid things, even when we know they’re stupid.

Maybe we older folks are too gullible. Maybe we’re just too nice.

Anyway, I’m guilty. And I’m still kicking myself and second-guessing my choices.

It all started with a lack of parking. I had about eight canvas grocery bags in the back of my car and could not find a parking space near my house.

Double parking is one of my biggest gripes about living in the city. I find it impossible to drive even two blocks without having to weave around double-parked cars.

I hate it. So I didn’t do it.

Instead I found a space across the street and down the block, not very close to my house.

As I leaned into the back of my car to pull out a few bags, an unfamiliar man approached.

“I hate to bother you, ma’am, but I need help. Can you help me?” he implored.

I looked him over. He was middle-aged and well dressed, although perhaps a bit too dapper. He wore a necktie.

Unfortunately for me, telling someone to get lost is not in my nature.

So I took the bait. “What’s the problem?” I asked.

After he spoke two sentences, I knew he was conning me.

Turns out, he was an extremely aggressive panhandler who could change his story easily every time I challenged one of his lies.

First he claimed he worked for PPL. When I asked to see his identification, he said he actually worked for one of the company’s subsidiaries, Frontier Energy.

When informed that Frontier Energy is not part of PPL, he said he was “new on the job.”

He said he needed bus fare to Easton. “I can’t get home. I have no money and no car,” he explained.

Then he said he had been walking around town for four hours trying to get bus fare home. By my calculation, that meant he quit working at 2 p.m.!

How, I wondered, did he get to his Allentown “job” without money or a car?

He asked for $4. Bus tickets cost $2.

He was persistent. Since I had entertained his spiel, he wasn’t going anywhere until I gave him that $4.

I asked to see some proof he lived in Easton.

He couldn’t produce any. Instead, he showed me two driver’s licenses, both with different addresses in Allentown.

He just moved to Easton, he said.

I was not even sure he was either of the men pictured on the licenses.

Nothing in his story added up.

When I realized he would not go away, I was reluctant to pull out my cell phone to call the police, fearing the man would snatch my new phone and run.

But I didn’t want to pull out my wallet to search for four, $1 bills, either, because he could have grabbed the wallet and sprinted off.

The only sensible thing I had the presence of mind to do was to get him across the street in front of my security camera.

I stalled, telling him I needed to take the rest of the groceries to my porch, where I had already deposited two bags before I encountered the guy.

Without warning, he grabbed a few of the bags from my car and followed me. I’m surprised he didn’t run off with the goods, but I guess he wanted cash, not food.

He even offered to carry the bags into the house, but I’m not that stupid!

When he was in front of my house in full view of the camera, I reached deep into my purse without removing my wallet and pulled out a five.

He took the money and hastily took off, in the opposite direction of the bus stop. I was finally free.

I knew I had been scammed, but I could think of no other way to get rid of him.

Two pastors once told me they never give out money. Beggars approach clergy often with their sob stories, and although the ministers offer help, it’s not in the form of cash.

I tried that tactic once, with amusing results. When a man asked for money to buy a sandwich, I offered to make him one. He became angry and walked off. So much for hunger.

I should have offered the “Easton guy” a bus pass. I’m sure his reaction would have been similar.

From now on, I will follow the advice of those pastors and refrain from handing out cash when I hear a tale of woe.

And maybe the next time I can’t find a parking space when I have bags to unload, I’ll consider double parking.

On second thought, probably the fine would cost me a lot more than $5.