In the late 60's, I embarked upon an epic road trip with my mate which took us from San Francisco to the mid coast of Mexico. Many amazing/crazy things happened along the way, but this is probably the most... annoying.
It was a bit of a thrill crossing the border US-Mexican border in our newly acquired car and our aim was to get to Guaymas. Along the way, we stopped at a reasonably large city and we figured it would be a good place to stay the night.
After we had something to eat, a young Mexican man befriended us and suggested that we check out this nightclub around the corner. We thought, "Sure, why not", and followed him there. Oddly, he didn't come in with us but we did find him waiting for us out front when we'd finished up.
He then offered to show us around the next day but we told him that we were making our way south. As it happened, so was he and he asked us for a lift.
The next morning, he met us at our hotel and we set off. Although he didn't look a million dollars, he seemed like a nice guy and we enjoyed his company. At a couple of the stops along the way, we even bought lunch for our new friend.
As we got to Hermosillo, he told us that he'd be happy to get dropped off, thanked us for the lift, and we thought that was it.
When we finally arrived in Guaymas, we checked into our hotel and I thought I'd step out in the brand new leather kicks I'd bought in LA. I opened up the shoebox, carefully removed the wrapping paper and was greeted with a horrendous site.
Along the way, our new friend had kindly decided to swap his ratty old shoes with mine.