My best friend in college was doing 70 on the interstate between Bowling Green and Toledo (apparently a perilous stretch of road, if this thread is anything to go by) when an engine belt broke. There was no way that car was going anywhere. It was snowy and terribly cold, and she’d forgotten her cell phone. As she was sitting there trying to figure out what on earth she was going to do, a car stopped behind her, and a man got out. She wasn’t sure what to think - she needed help, but she was now by herself in the middle of nowhere with A Strange Man. The man came up by her window, stood well away from the car, smiled and waved, and held out his cell phone. She rolled the window down just enough to get the cell phone through, called me, and then fed it back through the window. He made sure someone was coming before he left.
She said it was clear to her that he knew she might be scared and did everything he could think of not to freak her out, and make sure she felt safe. I’ve always thought he was exceptionally thoughtful, in addition to being helpful. Very nice man.
I rented a SUV from National for a 3-week vacation back in May. When I pulled up to the check-out booth in a brand new Jeep Grand Cherokee , the woman took my driver’s license and noticed that it was my birthday. She said that she was giving me “the birthday rate”. I laughed – I thought it was just her way of joking around and being nice to the customer. When she handed me the paperwork to sign, I gasped when I saw the total cost of the 3-week rental: $535 (about a 70% discount).
When I was a little kid, my church had a picnic at a place called Walcamp. We had burgers, hotdogs and the usual cookout stuff, plus games and other activities. I spent most of the day running around in the woods with some of the older kids and my sisters (1 year and 2 years older), but at some point they all moved on to other activities. I tried to get my dad to take me out into the woods but he was playing softball and told me to wait. With nothing else to do, I went out into the woods by myself. I didn’t plan on going far, there were trails and several landmarks that I recognized from before, but somehow I ended up in a cornfield. I was pretty lost, pretty scared, and was completely unable to retrace my steps to get back to where I need to go.
Somehow, a pair of hikers stumbled onto me and asked where I was from and where my parents were. When we got it sorted that my family was, the man scooped me up on his shoulders and they carried me back there. We got back to the picnic area right as my whole family was about to go into the woods to find me. For the longest time, my mom adn dad joked that they were “angels” sent to rescue me.
Some of you may remember when I accidently shut a kitten in the dryer. It was one of the worst experiences in my life. Thread: http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=279955&highlight=kitten
In short, Bounce was adopted by the SD community and I was able to pay his rather large vet bills through the World Famous Doper Generosity. (The little bugger ran away a year or so later…I still have his twin, Bobbin.)
I’ve been on the receiving end of acts of kindness so many times I should write a book. I try really hard to find ways to be generous to other people whenever I can…usually I can find a way even though times are always tight.
Last winter we had snow and ice here between Dallas and Fort Worth, and my truck skidded as we were headed downhill to a stop sign. It ended up with both right-side wheels stuck spinning against the curb. Inside five minutes we had three vehicles stop (not to mention the one who had a delivery but promised to be right back). One of them backed up his giant pickup, one of the others brought a rope from his car, and they had us clear inside the next five minutes.
Zyada says she could smell the testosterone, but they’re still good guys.
I collect Barbie dolls. I had posted on a board about a certain doll that I had seen in my Barbie Collector catalog and fell in love with. I had asked my mother for the doll for my birthday, but she ordered another doll for me (which I still detest because I hate the dress she is wearing, the Irish Dancer Barbie).
Long story short, my online friend found it on sale on Amazon and shipped it to me as a belated birthday gift. It is the Go Red for Women Barbie for the American Heart Association.
I tried to think of an example for the OP…*and I couldn’t think of one *. Even thinking back into my childhood I had to go back to when I was about 6-7 and was lost in a store and an employee helped me find my mom before I could think of one.
It reminded me of a conversation I was in after work where someone asked me who mentored me when I was younger…who ’ took me under his/her wing’…and I had no answer.
In college, I went to the grocery store to stock up for the beginning of the term. I didn’t have a car, so I had to carry all the stuff.
Tip: if you are shopping alone without a car, don’t use a shopping cart, because then you will deceive yourself into thinking you’ve bought less than you actually have. Using a basket prevents you from getting more than you can safely carry.
I made my purchases, went outside, and realized about one block into the 8-block walk that all the stuff combined was just too heavy and it was going to take me forever to get home because I was going to have to put everything down and rest every half block. A mom and her 3 kids noticed me struggling along (I’m not ill or disabled but I’m a little string bean and it’s pretty obvious I’m not built for heavy lifting) and asked where I lived. They then proceeded to carry all these bags of groceries the remaining 6 blocks to my apartment despite the fact that their destination was in some totally opposite direction. I somehow wound up carrying absolutely nothing. I was in total shock and thanked them about a million times.
I was having trouble tracking a package. According to the post office’s web page it had been delivered to a UPS store hours after their mail had arrived that day. I went to the post office with what tracking information I had and asked for help. The lady went to the back and returned with a longer printout that showed how it had arrived, and for some reason left again to a different city, and was still wandering about but should arrive the next day. I asked if I could have a copy of her printout as it was more complete than mine, but she told me it was against their policy to pass out this information as she turned her head aside and slid her papers across the counter to me.
Many years ago I had a sales job. As part of the job I gave presentations to large electrical engineering firms.
I wasn’t making the appointments myself, there was another staff member in my office that would make the appointments and hand me a list.
Once she made a mistake…am understandable one considering most of these companies answer their phone “engineering” rather than with the name of the firm. She associated a phone number/contact name with the wrong address/firm name.
So I show up to give my scheduled presentation and they know nothing and the person I am asking for doesn’t work there, no one knows who he is…“there is no Mr/ Soandso here and no our phone number is not 212-555-1234.” I have probably never felt stupider in my life, I was speechless and confused and felt incoherent.
This was in the days before cell phones and easy communications, so I couldn’t call my office.
I was ready to slink away with my tail between my legs when the owner of this large firm comes into the lobby. He asks me who I was and why I was there and I’m sure I gave the same partially coherent mumbles I had given to the receptionist.
He tells me to wait 10 minutes and then he takes me to a large conference room, where he had assembled the entire engineering staff to hear my totally unscheduled presentation.
A couple of years ago, I was driving to the airport for a business trip. I was meeting another person at the airport and we were going to catch the same flight across the country for a series of depositions.
I was about three miles from the airport on a major road when my car just stopped running (as it turned out, it was an electrical issue). I had plenty of time, so I didn’t panic, just got my car onto the shoulder, called AAA to come get the car, called the garage to let them know it was coming, and called for a taxi to take me the rest of the way to airport. Told them where I was on the side of the road and that they couldn’t miss me.
The tow truck showed up within 20 minutes, which has to be close to a record time for them. The guy hooks my car up, I tell him where to take it, then he offers to give me a lift to the airport. I tell him “no thanks” because I’ve called the cab company and don’t want to leave them hanging without a fare. At that point, I still had over an hour before my flight was scheduled to leave. I figured the cab would show up soon and I’d be at the airport with time to spare.
Only the cab never shows up. I called them a couple of times and spoke to the dispatcher, who told me both times that they were close. With about 40 minutes left before my flight, I call them a third time and they say they’ve been by the place a couple of times, but didn’t see me (standing on the side of the road, with a suitcase). I was getting frustrated at that point when a guy pulls his car over to the side of the road and asks me if I need a ride to the airport.
Ordinarily, I’d be wary of accepting rides from strangers, but I was worried about missing my flight, so I hopped in the car. Turns out the guy wasn’t even heading to the airport–he just saw me and thought he’d make the offer. I offered him $20, which is close to what I would’ve had to pay the taxi anyway and he declined. He was Muslim and said that his religion required him to perform good deeds and that this was one.
So I made it to the airport just before the check-in window closed and got on my flight. All because some random guy stopped and gave a stranger a lift.
Christmas Day I used the shared services section of a Credit Union’s ATM to deposit some money. Going to leave the person behind me says I left a bull in the ATM. I look at the tray and thre is $50 but it’s not mine.
I take the bill and the person for telling me that it’s not mine. He says we should split it then. I say I’m going to contact the CU. I send an email when I get home and they reply is they know who the money belongs to and want me to send the bill in so I did.
I’ve always told my kids that if their backs are against the wall don’t ask a rich person to help you. Because they won’t. Ask somebody who’s poor because whatever they’ve got they’ll share with you.
Another supervisor where I worked and I didn’t get along great (think terse political arguments through clenched teeth) but when my car died on Dorchester Rd at 9:30 at night one night Stacy was the only person who’d answer their phone he came and picked me up immediately. I’m sure his wife wasn’t too thrilled but I thanked her heartily when I saw them next for her lending me her gentleman of a husband.
I repaid him by letting him be the first person (aside from myself) to drive my new 5 speed Mazda 3 I bought a month later.
I was in Cork, Ireland for school from Sept 1997 to June 1998. Excepting one school field trip to Macroom, I left Cork for the first time on June 19th, just ten days before returning home. I caught a train to Belfast to see the Bob Dylan/Van Morrison concert at the Botanic Gardens.
Being 21 and rather blasé, I had no idea where the Gardens were, nor any idea of the layout of Belfast. I figured I’d just ask directions, like I had the entire time in Ireland. I got off the train, headed east across the bridge, and walked until I found someone. I was just starting to pass Loyalist murals when I came across a middle-aged woman and asked her to point me to the Gardens. Instead of giving me directions, she said “Here, I’ll show you.” She reversed direction and led me along the streets for a good ten minutes. I was bemused by her generosity, and then confused when she came to a sudden stop across the street from a park. She pointed down the road and told me to follow it until I came to a bridge, and that I should cross the bridge and I’d be right there.
So I’m walking along and pondering why a woman would walk so far out of her way to guide me and then just stop. And then I see the very large “Ormeau” spray-painted just shy of the bridge, and the light goes on in my head.
Explanation for those unfamiliar with the situation: It was just after the Good Friday Agreement had been hammered out, and Belfast was (and unfortunately still is) rife with sectarian distrust and discord. I had walked into one of the most Protestant areas of the city, and the woman guided me through and to the very edge of her ‘territory’. She pointed me toward my destination in one of the most Catholic areas of Belfast.
Everyone I met was as sweet as could be. Beyond my guide, I stopped inside a shop on Ormeau for directions (without purchasing anything) and was met with “Oh, you’re here for the concert!” with comprehensive directions following. And the hostel in the city centre that was full-up but gave me leave to sleep in the rec room.
Actually, typing this out has made me realize that Belfast was the both the tensest (in general) and friendliest (in particular) city I’ve ever been to. Everyone (save the grouchy train guy the next morning) went out of their way to help me.
PJ O’Rourke tells of being in Tehran when the embassy hostages were taken and he needed a hotel room or flight (IIRC); the Iranian staff were incredibly helpful and a little embarrassed for him to be stuck there w/ ‘all this unpleasantness happening’ as they called it.
I spent some time travelling through the country back in 2004, at one point taking a long bus-ride (Shiraz to Isfahan IIRC). A few seats away from me there was a pretty hardcore-looking Iranian soldier, with camouflage fatigues, epic-looking beard and all.
The bus would stop occasionally – for smokes and Islamic prayer and whatnot – and at one of those stops, this soldier stepped out of the bus, picked a dozen flowers from the side of the road, came back in, and handed them to me with a big, friendly smile.
