Ever done a good deed and it was NOT appreciated?

In My Humble Opinion
21

My mom and I were driving down a county road a few years ago when we noticed a commotion up ahead. It looked like someone was lying in the right lane with a handful of people standing around her. My mom, a registered nurse and former ER worker, immediately stopped the car. We ran up to the scene to find a middle-aged woman sprawled on her back. One of the bystanders told us that she had just been run over by an unmanned car (the accident occurred right next to an auto repair shop where the woman had been a customer).

My mom informed the victim that she was a nurse. At that point, a woman kneeling next to the victim looked up and sneered, “How nice for you. Goodbye.” The angry woman claimed that she was also a nurse, as well as the victim’s sister, and that she knew what was best for the victim. My mother refused to leave the scene until the victim confirmed that the angry woman was, in fact, her sister and a nurse. The angry woman continued to abuse and attack my mother the whole time, cheerfully waving “buh-bye, bitch!” when we left.

Mom reported the incident to the sheriff’s office as soon as we got home (she suspected foul play, based on the woman’s refusal to accept help for such a serious injury), but the sheriff’s office didn’t want to get involved.

22

A somewhat tangential anecdote, almost opposite, but not unrelated:

A couple of years ago, I was walking home along our empty street, late at night, and I heard a man shouting obscenities from the other side of the street. My first reaction was to keep walking and not get involved, but there was something not right about this, and I looked over. It was a young guy who was wrapped around a bicycle.

So I ran over, and found that he’d obviously come off the bike at some speed, and his leg had been badly broken between the frame and the pavement. His almost ceaseless swearing was his way of reacting to the pain - he must have been in agony, alone and frightened. I told him I’d get an ambulance and be right back, dashed home (only 50 yards away), told my wife to ring the emergency number, and immediately ran back to try to tell the poor guy help was on its way. He was still swearing constantly, but starting to calm down, and by now was worried how painful it would be when the paramedics had to separate him from his bike. Damn, I’d be scared too.

Meanwhile, the noise had caught the attention of a middle-aged couple who lived nearby, and they came out to see what was up. I quickly explained the situation to them, meanwhile watching for my wife to come to confirm that an ambulance was on its way. She ran up after a couple of minutes, and helped me get the guy calmed down as best we could.

Meanwhile, idiot neighbours were standing watching, doing nothing, and broken-leg guy was still swearing almost incoherently. My wife had the sense to do what I should have done, and squatted next to the guy and gently but firmly held him to her, to give him reassurance. He started to calm down properly then.

Now it was just a wait for the ambulance. But no, Idiot Neighbour decides to give broken-leg guy a lecture on his bad language. “You can’t expect people to help you if you’re being abusive, young man, so please watch your language, there are ladies present” and that sort of thing, while standing there doing nothing except staring down at him. Jeez.

23

When I was 21 I saved a 2 year old boy from drowning. I was working for a summer camp as a counselor. I had also been a lifeguard for a couple of summers, an a competition swimmer since I was 6 years old.

I’m standing by the side of the pool, getting my charges ready to go back to their next activity when I glance over and see this little boy running towards the “big kids pool”, and no one was looking. I see him go right over the side and think, that kid’s going to sink like a stone, and I ran. The water was about 4 feet deep on my end, and 8 where he was. I dove when I went in, a swimmers dive is pretty shallow and I damn well know how to control my angle of entry. When I surface, with the kid, his mother (the camp director) is by the side. I hand her her crying toddler and she proceeds to scream at me for running and diving and how all the campers had seen me do it and I was setting a bad example. Nah, I didn’t just save your kid’s life or anything, lady.

24

Mine doesn’t compete with a few of the other posters here but here’s my story

When I was about 12 or so I came across a bunch of business checks laying in the middle of the street. They were the type that are in a binder with dozens if not hundreds of blank checks. One check had even been filled out with a signature and everything so anyone feeling like copying that signature would have an easy time.

I looked at the address and figured it was about 5 blocks away so I peddled my bike there and eventually found the person they belonged to. He answered the door and gave me a dirty look when he saw me there (I was out delivering the paper when I found his checks so I didn’t feel bad at that point because he probably thought I was there to sell a subscription) when I explained I came across his checks and came to return it to him he snatched it out of my hands and slammed the door in my face.

Damn I wasn’t expecting a reward or anything but I was thinking I’d at least get a thanks not outright rudeness and hostility.

25

What did you do? I guess I can understand the mother in the OP freaking out after just seeing her kid heading toward a car, but in this case it seemed like less of a freak out. Nothing like this has ever happened to me, and I’m pretty mild mannered, so I might just mutter something sarcastic, but damn. Seems to me that I might just call her an idiot and swear at her a bunch. I know you were working for her, so it’s not like it’s someone you have no ties to.

26

When I moved back to Seattle the time before last, (yeah, I just can’t stay away) my best friend from high school offered to let me stay with her family (husband and three daughters) until I could find a place of my own.

Both parents worked, kids in school all day, not much house work got done. An example, they owned four sets of dishes, all dirty.
When we were growing up her home was always a mess, so it didn’t surprise me.

The first full day I was there, alone with nothing to do, I cleaned the kitchen. I did five dishwasher loads of dishes. It was obvious that they’d never all been clean before, because there was no where to store two full sets. I scrubbed the range, the floor and the counter tops. I left the clean dishes on the table and counter top. I didn’t throw any of the stacks of mail away, I just straighten it and set it aside. I didn’t rearrange anything.
AND I made dinner.

The kids got home first. They were thrilled. You don’t expect 9 and 10 year olds to notice stuff like that, much less say thanks for it.

The husband got home next and almost cried he was so happy.

Now, everything the kids and hubby said was said long before my friend got home. Hubby was in the garage and kids were in their rooms doing homework when my friend got home.
She walked in, threw her purse on the floor and laid into me, saying I only did it to show her up.
She did however, eat the dinner I made and never said a thing in front of the family. It was never mentioned again.
I continued to clean up after myself, but never went over board again. :rolleyes:

27

Let me know if you ever want to move to the Northeast. I have room.

28

A friend of mine slid off his motorcyle going round a bend. He was trapped underneath it for a couple of minutes until a car came round the corner. The driver very kindly stopped, but spent an inordinate amount of time finding the little red triangle to warn other drivers. Meanwhile my friend, whose leg was under the exhaust, was screaming “get the fucking bike off me! Get the fucking bike off me!” Finally, after the driver had set up his red triangles either side of the bend, the driver lifted the bike.

Sadly, my buddy was trapped for so long that the heat from the exhaust made it through his boots, and melted a large chunk of his calf, and he ended up having to have a skin graft.

Who was right or wrong? Nobody, I think. The guy who helped him could have prevented him from being crushed to death by a truck wtih his fiddly red warning triangles. And if the guy hadn’t come along, my friend would have still lost skin from his leg - possibly more.

But on the other hand, if the guy had listened to my friend and done something that would have taken a mere two seconds, he wouldn’t have ended up having three operations and being on crutches and out of work for six months.

But the guy was helping, and my friend did seem ungrateful at the time. Tough one.

29

Not quite as serious:

A decade ago up on phoning in damages/vandalism to bollards and other street furniture to the city roads department after, in three out of three cases, their reaction was to the effect “Thank you for calling; we need your address to send you the bill.” WTF? I did not say that I did the damage.

30

One time we were playing tennis at the courts at our apartment complex. We stopped to take a break and two dogs trotted up to us to make friends. (To set the scene: it was a large area right next to a housing association, too, so there were lots of apartment buildings among houses, big hills and rolling streets and open areas. We were at the bottom of a hill right next to a two-lane road with a fairly high speed limit.)

We looked around for their owners, who weren’t anywhere to be seen. Since we were at the bottom of a hill, we couldn’t see the porches of the houses at the top. I checked for tags, and they had names but no address. I figured they’d wandered from somewhere in the complex, though, so I had them follow me up the hill to look for their owners, in case they were close.

I spotted a couple working outside their house, and walked up smiling and saying, “Excuse me? Hi…” and was ignored. I raise my voice a little louder in case they didn’t hear, “Excuse me?” and get rewarded with an annoyed look from the woman. I say, “Are these your…?” and before I say “dogs,” she turns and glares at them and points at the porch and growls (seriously) at them to get up there. They stop frolicking and whimper and run up to the porch and through the open door. Then, she returns to her work.

I wait a few seconds, raise my eyebrows and say, loudly, “You’re welcome. Have a good weekend.” as I walk away. Stupid mean lady. grumble The small dog was cute and friendly. Shoulda kept it.

31

Back to the OP – it’s all perception. She probably didn’t focus on the car until the cart hit you, and thought that somehow you had not seen the child, or even that by moving the car you put the baby in more danger. She was probably panicking and lashed out.

32

At a cousin of my wifes house, while everyone else was on the porch drinking & chatting, I noticed a toddler riding his tricycle full-speed through the open gate and straight towards the ingroynd pool. I sprinted off the porch straight to him and managed to grab both him and the trike up inches from the edge of the deep end. Setting them down in the yard I angrily slammed the open pool gate shut. I didn’t expect applause, but when the child’s mother called me an asshole and downed her drink, it took every ounce of self control I had not to throttle her drunk ass. Actually, I was less pissed at her than I was at her husband, who was 7 beers to the wind and did Nothing. Did I tell you that hes a fireman? We were never invited back either. Haven’t heard about any toddler funerals so maybe they finally learned to close the f-ing pool gate…

33

I can’t think of any that happened to me personally, but I remember an incident when I was about nine years old and riding in the car with my father. My dad was a fervent CB radio user at the time, and when he noticed a pickup truck ahead of us make a turn at an intersection and drop several boards onto the road, he used the radio to let the driver (whose truck also had a CB radio antenna) know that he’d lost some of his cargo.

The driver’s response was “don’t worry about it” followed by a number of profanities I’d probably already heard by that age, but which were nonetheless pretty shocking coming through our radio at high volume. My father responded angrily (although not as obscenely) and they continued to taunt each other for a minute or two before he switched off the radio.

34

When I was a kid I was at a big campout and me and my best friend were in our tent reading comic books. Everyone was off on the other side of the grounds. We’re sitting in there reading and I start hearing faint calls for help. I ask him if he hears it, but he shrugs and just keeps reading. A minute later I decide to see what’s up and leave the tent, following the calls.

Now, South Florida is all cut up by steep-sided canals. Think medieval castle moats filled with brackish water and lined with sharp coral. Anyway, my 350- pound former soccer coach had gotten loaded, climbed into a canoe, paddled around, and had himself a nice heart attack. And he was now clinging to the pylon of a dock, moaning feebly for help as the tide came in.

So I said “Coach Soandso, give me your hand!” And he was together enough to look at me like I was retarded, because I was ten years old and he appreciated the impossibility of me pulling him out, and then he said “get some help.” So I did, and the ambulance came, and he was okay.

You know who said thanks? NO ONE. I even know his son as an adult and I don’t think that fucker knows I saved his dad. I would like recognition for my acute hearing and life-saving abilities, but apparently no one even remembers it.

35

I was taught by the nuns to be the good samaritan because it is the right thing to do, not because I expect recognition and thanks. Thus, when I do something like chase a man down the street to return his bank card to him after he left it in the ATM, it doesn’t bother me when he just snatches it from me and turns away.

36

I was driving behind another car containing a couple of guys. Noticed that they had a set of keys dangling from the trunk - I guess they used the spare to actually, you know, start the car. I tooted the horn briefly and waved at them.

They responded with a one-finger salute. :rolleyes: It’s not like I was being obnoxious or even laying on the horn - I had, literally, just waved and tooted once.

We went through the traffic light. I rolled down my window as I passed them and hollered “your keys are in the trunk!”. Evidently they heard me, because a moment later they had pulled over and apparently retrieved them. I’m hoping they really felt like jerks!

The other time I did the “keys are in your trunk” thing, we were stopped at a long stop light. I grabbed the keys from the lady’s trunk and ran up to the driver side and gave them to her. She was startled at seeing a stranger at her window, but was at least grateful.

37

A man did that to me once and scared the life out of me. Out of no where, a man was knocking on my car window at a red light.

It was nice of him to hand me the keys but my heart was pounding and I was too shaken to say a word.

38

:o Now that it’s long past, I am feeling worse about the fact that my parents and I cleaned up my brother’s place while he was in the hospital. We were partly doing it to be able to stay there comfortably, and partly to take our minds off the possibility of his dying. I guess neither of those reasons takes him into account. The floor was covered with lotto tickets, spare changes, mail…and the rest of the house needed to be cleaned, dishes washed, etc. My Pop did his laundry and scrubbed most surfaces.

My brother had told me I could tell our parents about his heart attack but only if they didn’t come visit. But then he had an acute heart failure and was unconscious, which to me changed things. He’s pissed they came though, and now I realize he has a right to be pissed about our cleaning up his house.

39

Here’s a guy who donated sperm to a lesbian coworker as a friendly gesture and now is being sued for child support.

40

I’m a leatherworker. Last weekend, a lady asked me if I could make her a new strap for her purse, as the strap it came with was way too short for her, and she preferred the purse hang near her hip. She mentions that, while I’m at it, the strap it came with is a bit too wide, and could I make the new one narrower? She brings in her purse the next day, and it just so happens that I have a piece of scrap upholstery leather that perfectly matches her purse. This is a bit of a miracle, because dye often varies greatly from hide to hide even in two hides of the same type, and that I’d have a piece the same type, color, and texture as her purse is pretty random. The purse is red and brown. The leather I have matches the red. I quoted her $10.

So I get to working on it later in the week, and I can’t make a strap as long as she wants it with one continuous piece of leather–the scrap I have is too short, and I’d have to splice strips together to make it long enough. I decide to use the scrap I have to make two 12" long, 1" wide straps and splice them into the old strap that the purse came with, which is of the brown leather and 1 1/2" wide. I make two 1" x 12" straps and open the end seams on the old strap, splicing in the new straps, replace the hardware and redo all the old stitching, taking pains to match the shade of gray and the stitch length, so that the whole thing matches the purse, in color and style. I mean, the new strap looked like it was bought with the purse, spot on. I was really proud of myself for coming up with an elegant solution that meant no visible seams and a strap that matched the purse better than she could ever have asked for–and for only $10.

She hated it. She was pissed that I’d used the old strap, that it was too wide and slid off her shoulder, and pissed that she’d have to wait another week for me to make one that was 1" wide. She wants me to make her a strap made of the latigo leather I use to make dog leashes and use the hardware that came with the old strap.

Now, had I done that to begin with it would have taken me thirty seconds to do and cost me fifteen cents. Instead, I put in a huge amount of time and labor to do what I thought was an above-and-beyond job, when I could have taken the shortcut route, made something that doesn’t even come close to matching her purse, and costs me almost nothing in labor or materials–but meets the 49" x 1" specs.

Sigh.