That's gratitude for you! :(

We’ve all had, I’m sure, experiences where we did something kind for someone we may not even have known at all–and got either no expression of gratitude, or worse, our hand bitten.
Mode 1: I found $270, with no ID, in a wallet in a local mall parking lot. I took it to the security desk in the mall, and they took my name, address, and phone number. I later found out the person who lost it claimed it later that day and made no effort to thank me. :frowning:
Mode 2: In 1980 a cousin, living with us, called about a friend, in Long Beach, CA, whose car broke down and needed to get his stuff back home to Hermosa Beach, about 15 miles away. I gladly went to help. On the way back, however, the driver and his brother and a friend–and my cousin–ragged and teased me maddeningly, while I was driving, all the way back to Hermosa Beach! Hey, I could have left them there! Or not even come at all! I never let that guy in my car again. Ungrateful cretin!! :frowning:
The Teeming Millions must have plenty of such experiences…

Honesty and generosity, I’ve come to discover, are thankless jobs.

Do I allow myself to become a miserly old cheat? No… I’m too much of a sap.

Either learn how to say no, or get used to it.

I decided to get used to it. I just know that someday, someone’s going to leave me a million dollars and several beautiful homes all over the world. I just know it.


Veni, Vidi, Visa … I came, I saw, I bought.

Oooh, that brings back an ungratitude situation. I drove a pack of drunks around for a bachelor party. Most of them were pretty nice about it, but a couple of them just complained about my driving the whole time. Apparently, I am the third-worst driver the groom knows, at least when he’s drunk.

It would be interesting to know how they’d behave toward you if they were sober, Boris.

Boris: take a tip from Jeff Foxworthy next time. Stop at every gas station and collect three bucks from each of them for gas…


Veni, Vidi, Visa … I came, I saw, I bought.

Touche, Chris! :slight_smile:

Excellent ideas!

In fact, they all think I’m a pretty louzy driver when they’re sober, I gues they’re just more vocal about it when tanked. Maybe they figured they could ride with me without being terrified if they were sufficiently fortified.

Or maybe “insulated,” Boris.

Scenario a la dougie’s #1: woman leaves her purse on a picnic bench at large publishing company.

Consciencious editor rescues purse, contacts woman (who has lost a ton of cash, credit cards, and a cell phone), who agrees to pick up purse.

Upon meeting, woman snatches purse from editor’s hand and stalks away in irate huff. Editor regrets not helping self to aforementioned cash.

The ungrateful bitch!! :frowning:

Yeah!

Like Boris, I have had a lot of people complain about my driving, but that’s because 1) I used to drive aggressively, or 2) Because they are jerks.

Anyone who complains DURING a ride they begged should be anesthetized, or possibly strapped to the roof.

OK, here’s my story-

Heathrow Airport (London) - find a purse on the inter-terminal bus. Not just any purse, but a very fashionable (at the time) Gucci mini-backpack with bamboo handle, etc. Inside: wallet, lots of currency (US and UK), credit cards, US passport (!! - probably the most valuable thing there), CA drivers license, plane ticket, etc.

I know what it’s like trying to get home without one’s passport, and I decide it’s an opportunity to earn some “good karma points”, so over my next 3 days in London, I call the US Embassy and explain that I have this woman’s purse and passport, figuring she’ll be contacting them to get a new passport so that she can get home. (OK, I did use change from her purse for the payphone call to the Embassy.) I leave my name and the phone # at the hotel where I’m staying so she can contact me to get her items. Even call back later when I change hotels. No response.

Cut to a week later, I’m back in the US, I call directory info (on MY nickel) and get a phone number based on the drivers license address (So. Cal.) and call her (again on my nickel) and leave a message that I have her purse, etc. A few days later she calls and asks me to FedEx her purse to her. I say fine, but I’ll need you to give me a FedEx account number to charge it to. She calls back a day later with a charge number. I make the trip to FedEx and send the purse.

So what happens next? Do I get a nice “thank you” note? (Sort of expected - this is what I would do.) A reward? (Never really expected this.) NOOOOOOO! What I get (3-4 weeks later) is a bill from FedEx saying the account number I used was bogus and I need to pay the bill! Fortunately I had kept the receipt, including her mailing address, and so I sent her the FedEx bill with a terse (but not rude) note saying “you might want to think about paying this.” Guess she did because I never heard another thing - from her or FedEx.

What did I conclude?

  1. Had the SoCal/Valley Girl stereotype (selfish, etc.) cofirmed. (I know it’s a stereotype, don’t flame me PLEASE!)
  2. Had a lesson in doing the right thing is its own - and often only! - reward.
  3. Truthfully, next time I’m going to end up thinking harder and longer about doing the “right” thing and may just keep the cash. We’ll see what happens next time the opportunity presents itself.

Not sure I want to share this because it makes me seem so spineless, but I was really just trying to do the right thing.

Found an ATM card left in an ATM machine. I recognized the name as the wife of a vice president of the company I work for. I figured they must live close by, so I looked up the name in the phone book, thinking she could pick it up or I could mail it to her, but mostly to let her know I’d found it. She told me to drop it off at her house, and to stick it under the mat, she wouldn’t be home. Not even a thank you.

At that point I should have put the card back in the machine or sold it to some criminal or something. But I put it under the mat.

“If you had manifested fatigue upon noticing that you had been an ass, that would have been logical, that would have been rational; whereas it seems to me that to manifest surprise was to be again an ass.”
Mark Twain
Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc

I am an employee for the State of Tennessee.

Being given a constant diet of rank ingratitude is a way of life.

Tis starts with the Governor & Legislature,; & works it’s way down to the Man-On-The-Street.


We have met the enemy, and He is Us.–Walt Kelly

Personally, I’m part of the “random acts of kindness” school on this. It’s nice to be thanked or rewarded for good deeds, but I do things just for the sake of doing them. I like to think that somewhere down the line, someone else might do me a favor at some point. In fact, when I think about my life in general, there have been those that have done me a good deed.

Have any of you been there?

  • A stranger in a checkout line points out that you’ve dropped something out of your wallet (or purse) that you didn’t notice.
  • Return to your car’s parking space afraid that you’ll have a parking ticket because you were gone so long, only to find that someone has put another coin in your meter.
  • Recieved unsolicited (and useful) help when your car was stuck or broken down.

The list goes on and on. Not everyone are uncaring heels. Sometimes, I’ll do a good turn just because I feel like I owe the universe one.

Don’t worry, people. Not everyone is ungrateful. I went to the WI state fair and lost my purse. I went to the lost and found and it was there. They said that someone who works at the fair found it. I asked her name so I could thank her.

They told me her name but said that she was done for the day. One of the workers showed me where they keep their time cards and said that I could leave a note for her. They gave me paper, a pen and a paperclip. I wrote her a note and thanked her profusely (my life was in that purse!) and left her some money, too.


MaryAnn
Sometimes life is so great you just gotta muss up your hair and quack like a duck!

Maybe six, seven years ago, I went to the bank and cashed a check (I think it was for about $60 or so). The clerk gave me a handful of money, which I didn’t bother to really look at, and I walked back to my car.

Then it dawned on me that the wad of cash was awfully thick for the amount I’d asked for. So I counted it and she’d give me like twice as much as the check was actually for. So I went back, stood in line again, explained what happened and handed her back the extra amount. And damned if she didn’t act like I had tried to steal it or something! Hello??? It was YOUR mistake, not mine, and if I hadn’t come back to return it, you wouldn’t even have known until the books didn’t balance at the end of the day.


peas on earth

Not all altruistic experiences are bad though; last week I was in line at the supermarket behind a lady who, after having packed her groceries, had left her purse with all her money, credit cards and what looked like IDs behind, right next to my bag. I picked it up and ran after her, leaving my groceries behind. She wasn’t really willing to turn around as there was a strange man calling her (me), but she did and I gave her the purse back. the look on her face was like the sun coming up in the morning, no words were exchanged, and I left. It was very touching.


It only hurts when I laugh.

Mr. Knowitall reminded me…

Rarely do I ever carry a purse, generally I just have my day planner (I call it my “Life”) and my keys, and I hook my phone to my waistband. My Life contains all my pictures, my cash, checkbook, cards and IDs, not to mention all the other junk (phone numbers, calendars, etc).

Just about eight weeks after Bowen was born, I had to go to UPS to pick up some packages. Byron was at work and I had no sitter, so I had to take the boy with me. One of the UPS workers dollied my stuff out to the car and I put my Life on top of the car while I got the boy strapped into the backseat. Then I helped the UPS lady get the boxes into the trunk.

I pulled my keys out of my pocket, got in my car and drove away, completely forgetting that I’d left my Life on top of the car. It stayed up there for about half the trip, cuz I was trying to drive super carefully to avoid toppling any of the packages. Bowen started to cry, though, so I started going a little faster so I could get him home and fed. It was about then that my Life took a dive from the roof of the car to the curbside of one of the busiest intersections in the city.

I realized it the instant I started to collect my things to get out of the car once we were at home. I freaked. I called UPS to see if I’d left it there, called Byron and told him we were going to have to cancel all our credit cards and stuff… I couldn’t get out to go look for it, because I had to feed the boy.

Forty-five minutes later, a scruffy man rings my doorbell. “Your house is pretty hard to find,” he said. “I saw this fall off of your car at 14th and University.” Scruffy Man hands me my Life. Hallelujah!

Evidently, he lived in his van, and was in the parking lot across from where I turned. “I didn’t take anything out of it, I only looked to see if you had your address in there,” he assured me. A very quick (I tried to be discreet) inspection showed that he was telling the truth.

I gave him $100.


Veni, Vidi, Visa … I came, I saw, I bought.