One of the top 5 nicest things anyone's ever done for me

I just got back from a concert and the girl I went with, simply by going with me, just did one of the top ten nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

She agreed to go to a hard rock concert, which is music she doesn’t really listen to, to see a band she had never heard of, with a guy that she met two weeks ago, and have only hung out with twice before. The concert also ended at 11 and she has to work tomorrow at 5 in the morning.

She is an exceedingly sweet girl for doing that for me, and I’ve thanked her tons of times over it, although I doubt she will really understand just how happy it made me that someone would do that for me.

So I know you’re not reading this…but I’ll say again…thanks :slight_smile:

One evening I found myself with a spare ticket to see the play Medea two days later at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. (My date cancelled at more-or-less the last second. Box seats no less. :() So I asked this other woman I was friends with and fortunately she was free.

I say “fortunately” because neither of us had any idea as to the story of Medea and were blown away by both the story and the acting. Damn!! :slight_smile: (And it had Dame Judith Anderson in a supporting role!) It wouldn’t have been half so much fun without her.

This is an action I remember to this day, and I would give quite a bit to be able to find this person and thank him.

I was early 20’s, living in Okinawa, and having my second miscarriage. Having been rushed to the hospital, then admitted, I had no personal care items with me. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to comb my hair. I’d asked the nurses, but they either couldn’t or wouldn’t find one for me. However, a few hours into my stay, the hospital chaplain stopped by, and asked if there was anything I needed. I asked for a comb, and a few minutes later, he came back with one. I assume it was from the hospital gift shop. I really don’t have the words to describe how grateful I was.

If I’d been older, or perhaps less distressed, I would have thought to get his name. But, I didn’t. I interacted with him for maybe 10 minutes total, and I will never forget him. His actions are a large part of why I’m a nurse today.

Is this a friend thing or a hopefully-more thing? If hopefully more, are you taking good steps to move it along?

I would highly doubt it’s an anything more. I am really really hurt by my girl leaving me cuz she was my best friend in the world, and I have practically no friends now since she left me and that’s all I want right now…a friend.

Coincidentally she just had her boyfriend leave her, and I don’t know if she’s looking for anything more with me…but I enjoy having a friend. I am a pretty sensitive guy in general so having somebody do that for me just touched me beyond belief.

Also if anyone reading this has other stories like this feel free to contribute. This can be a great “awwww” thread!

I went to see Duran Duran on Thursday night with a couple of friends and the cutest couple were sitting in the row in front of us. They were in their mid 40’s, and it was pretty clear that only one of them was really a fan. He had a fabulous time, dancing, cheering and his partner, although clearly not a fan of the same level, took pictures and videos, whispered (okay probably shouted in his ear) things that made him bounce in his seat and was just generally supportive. It made my evening.

I’m not a fan that gets into things at that level, but I love going to concerts with those who are. It really makes the entire experience more fun for me. That’s why I go to these events with my friend Cathy, she’s one of those dance, cheer, scream fans and it’s much more fun when she’s around.

You should tell us about the other four!

One time I was asking some friends at work to help me brainstorm on how to solve a problem. I was having friends stay a few days and renting some cots, but had no way of getting them to my house, which was in another city 40 miles west of where we all worked. One of the women offered her minivan — not just to let me borrow it, but she went with me to load them up and unload them. After the guests left, she had her husband drop by and get them, and then return them.

I was amazed at her generosity and really begged her not to go to so much trouble. She said as a beneficiary of a kindness by her parents-in-law, she felt strongly about continuing the thoughtfulness — the “pay it forward” thing. So hesh and let me help you, she said. :slight_smile:

Two years ago, SWMBO and I were in Las Vegas for a tournament. We were having dinner with several other people and the topic got around to magic. Now I love magic and am a (very) amateur magician. SWMBO likes magic but during the course of the conversation, she said that she didn’t like Penn & Teller because they did “gross” magic.

One of the other folks at the table excused himself and came back a few minutes later and slipped her a note and said, “Read this when you get back to your room.” He had booked a pair of tickets for P&T’s show the following night for us, and those tickets are NOT cheap! I had a great time and SWMBO became a P&T fan.

Lousy cellphone pics, but better than nothing:

Teller and me.

Penn and SWMBO.

Speaking of Duran Duran concerts…

Duran Duran is my favourite band of all time, since I was 10 years old. In 2003 they reunited and went on tour. Their shows promptly sold out but I managed to get one ticket for their show in Cleveland, OH. My friends were worried about me travelling alone but I said “This is my 20 year dream. I don’t want anybody tagging along on my dream.” So I took a bus from Toronto, ON to Cleveland. I couldn’t figure out where the line started so I was standing in the theatre looking confused when these two girls walked by and I had this feeling that I should follow them. They squeezed in about 30 feet from the front of the line and I walked up to them and said “May I please hang out with you? I’m by myself and I’m from Canada and this is my 20 year dream.” They said sure, and when the doors opened (general admission) they grabbed my hands and RAN and we were 3rd ROW. I was so close I could see Simon LeBon’s blue eyes. It was the happiest day of my entire life.

After the show I went to the coat check. I was wearing my “Canadian Girls Kick Ass” t-shirt and the coat check guy offered me a ride back to the hotel because “…this is NOT a safe neighbourhood.” He ended up taking me on a tour of downtown Cleveland, telling me the history of the city and the Agora Theatre (where the show was), and dropped me off safely at my hotel.

I’d met a security guard at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame earlier that day and he gave me his phone number and said to call him in the morning. He met me for breakfast then took me to the big mall downtown there and to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch. He bought me a Hurricane - hence beginning my collection of Hurricane glasses. He dropped me off safely at the bus terminal.

I love telling that story of the kindness of strangers in what is apparently one of the most dangerous cities in the US.

I don’t think I actually have a list of all five…but I do know another one.

When I was in high school I had a really good girl friend of mine that I hung out with at times and was really close to back then, she went to a different high school so I wasn’t able to see her every day but still loved hanging out with her on the weekends. I consider her one of the best friends I ever had. In our conversations we would have I told her that I thought mini Oreos and cherry Pepsi was the best food/drink combination ever.

I was in theater a bunch in high school and told her that she should come to a play of mine sometime, so she chose to come one day when it happened to be my birthday. She surprised me by showing up at the end of the show (I never knew she was coming in the first place) and in her hand she had a gift bag with a bow and card and everything. In the bag there was a birthday card and a 2 liter of cherry pepsi. It was such a touching thing that she remembered what I said I liked and she actually bought it for me. I don’t think that she has any idea how much that little thing meant to me, but it’s something I’ll never forget.

I was in the hospital at age 16 with a bad perintonsilar (sp?) abcess. I was finally starting to recover after 5 days of being pretty much out of it, and had not eaten solid food for over a week.


I also couldn’t talk - my vocal cords had been temporarily paralyzed by the infection. I had to write notes to communicate everything. I finally managed to nag the doctor into changing my diet from “liquid” to a regular dinner.

I was so excited! Being in the hospital is really boring once you get to feeling better; I don’t watch TV and was really tired of reading. I looked forward to that meal all day. The hospital had very good food - so much so that many people from downtown would go there for lunch.

Dinner time arrives and so does my tray. I lifed the cover to find…a “liquid” meal. The diet change hadn’t made it to the kitchen.

I replaced the cover and cried.

When the orderly came to remove the tray, he lifed the cover and commented that I hadn’t eaten anything. I scrawled a note about how my diet order was supposed to have been changed.

Even though it wasn’t his job, that nice man went to the nurses station, verified the order change, and went to the kitchen for a new tray. I still remember how happy I was.

The doctor was right - my throat was still too swollen for solid food - I think I managed to eat two bites. It was the best food I’ve ever had!

-When I was barely 18 and looking for full-time work, I went downtown to a real greasy spoon. Got coffee and a paper; that was all I could afford. Looked through the ads; was there for an hour probably, just guzzling coffee. My stomach was rumbling after a bit. :stuck_out_tongue:
The waitress came over with a plate of eggs and hash, and I told her she had the wrong table. She said the guys at the counter…who looked practically homeless themselves…had bought it for me and paid for my coffee, too. I guess I just looked that young and desperate, but I’ve never forgotten it.

-One Labor Day evening, at about 3:30 in the morning…just about the deadest time of the week one can imagine…my car broke down on an on-ramp. I figured it was the radiator, and it was, but it was nothing I could fix right there. This was before cell-phones, so I was really in a jam. A car came by, stopped, figured out it couldn’t be fixed on the spot, and insisted on giving me a ride home. Where I lived at the time was at least 30 miles from there, way off the freeway, and he got me all the way there. Not only was that just amazingly kind, as he could have dropped me off further down and I’d have called my folks, but when he left I saw his gas guage was almost on empty, without a gas station open anywhere near. I hope his guardian angel took care of him like he took care of me. :slight_smile:

Oh man, I started thinking about the sweetest things people did for me, and realized almost all of them were actions from men who were interested in me. My faith in humanity just took a hit – or maybe I should just be grateful that people will do nice things for me, regardless of their motives.

Anyways, my story: I went to boarding school for high school. I met a friend there who invited me to her house over spring break, which was the first time I met her family. A month later, her family came up to surprise her for Easter. They set up an Easter egg hunt on the campus and brought materials to dye eggs in the dorm kitchen. They even brought a shower basket full of goodies: a stuffed animal, scented soap, candy, and I forget what else. The participants in these festivities were my friend, her mom, her dad, her little brother, and me. I even got my very own goody basket! I was so touched that this family took me in as if I was a member of their own family. We’ve remained close over the years, and in fact, I’m going to have Thanksgiving dinner with this family this year!

When I was 18 I lived with my then-boyfriend and we were poorer than churchmice. That would be because I was the only one working while he sat around all day with his friends, smoked pot and treated me like crap. (I had no self-esteem back then and kept hoping he’d “change”, what can I say.) Well I guess his one friend’s Mom worked at the Tampax factory that used to be in my city. His friend told his Mom all about me - just a kid working so hard to keep a home while being treated like dirt - and she sent over something like 10 boxes of tampons for me. I was SO GRATEFUL. When you can barely afford food, tampons are EXPENSIVE!! To this day that is one of my Top 5.

This is absolutely beautiful. I love it. Oh, and I don’t think you need to worry about thanking him. I think he knows.

When my kids were really little, I was in the kitchen one day, knee-deep in laundry and elbow-deep in suds. The wall phone rang and I stretchy corded it back to the sink. It was one of my old friends from “back in the day.” He asked if I wanted to go have lunch.
I said, “Are you kidding? I’ve got a baby on my hip and just a couple hours before it’s time to go pick up Older One at school.”
He sighed and said, “I know. I just miss you.”
That one sustained me for a long time.

I think I’ve told this one before, but …
I went to college 200 miles from home, and didn’t get to come back much. One weekend, my boyfriend and his friend came to pick me up and drive me back, all in one night. Well, the POS truck they borrowed broke down on the interstate at about 2:00 AM. We were miles from any exit, with no cell phone or anything. We were getting ready to start walking when a state trooper pulled over and offered us a ride. We were probably 45 miles from the outskirts of town, and not only did he drive us in his cushy patrol car, but he let us use his personal cell phone to call and finagle a ride from our friends. Yes, he was a cop, “just doing his job”, but he could have just passed by.

Just recently, my dad’s girlfriend took us to a home Colts game. Yeah, we suck this season, but this was early in the season. Besides, she works for a company that has a field-level corporate suite! Free food, free drinks, big comfy seats, and a bathroom just down the hall. I had never been to a game before and was just thrilled to be there. We even got on the jumbo-tron, and I actually CAUGHT a field goal. You see were right behind the goal post, and the ball-catching net was in my face. Adam Vinatieri booted a 52-yarder that landed in my hands through the net.

Several come to mind. Sometimes, they’re very big, sometimes, they’re fairly small. There are two that make decent stories.

First story:

First, in college, I shared an apartment with my best friend and one of her friends (the two of us were friendly, but not friends). I had to go home over the summer, because I hadn’t found a job, and it was less expensive for my parents to pay my share of the rent and electric while I was 200 miles away than to pay for everything I needed and keep me up there. When I returned for the fall semester, my best friend was no longer my best friend. She just didn’t bother to tell me. Instead, she and her friend (who was no longer at all friendly towards me) went on a Gaslight campaign of “you suck and you should die” whenever I was around. Finally, in November, emotionally crushed and crying almost every night, I begged my parents to help me get a one bedroom apartment. I’d pay for bills and groceries with my part time job if they would pay the rent. They agreed.

I’d planned to hit every garage sale and Goodwill until I’d found furniture, linens, and kitchenware I didn’t have. Instead, the day my dad and older brother showed up to help me move, my dad brought an entire apartment’s worth of dinnerware, glasses, dishes, pots and pans, extra sheets, the old couch from the rec room, basic groceries, and quite literally everything I needed to get set up, half of which I hadn’t even thought about. He must have dropped $1000 at the base exchange, and it never even occurred to him that he was doing me a favor. It’s just what Dads do, in his mind.

It took me a long time to recover from what my “best friend”, to trust others enough to reach out and make new friends. I suspect if my Dad hadn’t set up that pile of supplies as I was finishing paperwork, it would have been a lot longer.

Second story (much shorter):

It’s been a bunch of bad weeks strung together, this past summer and fall. My friends are 1300 miles away. I’m broke and have no one to hang out with. The one email friend who’d really made a difference for me pulled a series of passive-aggressive stunts until I ran screaming. I’ve been really, really lonely.

I ran into an acquaintance. I can’t even remember who or where. We had a short, friendly conversation, and before she left, she spontaneously gave me a hug.

It was just a hug. It didn’t cost a dime. It took her five seconds (I hung on for a little bit) and practically no effort. But just that human contact, the knowledge that she cared, and I nearly burst into happy tears. It made my day one thousand times better.

Just wanted to say it’s always the small things that make a difference isn’t it?

When I was in fourth grade, and the worst kickball player in the world, a sixth-grader picked me first for her team. I have never played so well, kicked a single every time I was up and we WON! That was thirty-five years ago, and it changed my life.

Thanks, Kelly.