Think of the joy that is to be had from the crisps that are proffered in the pub and, likewise, the drink that is bought for you.
You are the millionth customer so you get a free tank of petrol at the garage.
You sign up to one of those "you'll soon be dead" offers on daytime TV advertised by Parky or that bloke who used to be on Dr in the House and you get a pen just for calling and a clock, a DVD player or a satnav if you agree to shell out.
Yes, we love something for nothing or the appearance of nothing.
The other night I was invited to the Groucho club in London's Soho for a showcase. I have been a few times but am not a member. It is rammed with Meeja types and Celebs. So it is a bit like a zoo full of self-absorbed people.
"Look at me, I'm a Lemur". "Look at me, I was on QI once". I suppose the famous cram in there to avoid being bothered by the rest of us.
The reason for my visit was the aforementioned showcase. This is where a record company get an artist to play a few tunes in the hope that we will go away and write about them or play their records on the radio.
They are useful exercises as they bring artists you may not have heard otherwise to your attention and there is the unadulterated joy of free food and drink.
This particular nights offering was singer songwriter Laura Comfort. An American with an LA tan and a gym-toned body: tall, willowy and very blonde.
She has a pleasant voice and a good band and - for the single - a string section. However, for some reason she left me cold. I didn't connect with the material at all which was a shame as she worked very hard and Jeff, the plugger, who organised the do is a top bloke.
You can watch a few seconds of her act on my Facebook page. Just click on "videos".
Karma, however, was only a thing on a stick away. First off, I nearly choked to death on a prawn at the start of the evening. Then upon exiting the venue - having had my photograph taken with the artist I noticed - I had somehow spilled Soy Sauce down the front of my shirt! As I was also clutching a carrier bag from a little CD shopping trip I had undertaken earlier, the end result made me look like I had just arrived hot foot from a local bench.