Food For Thoughtfulness

, , , , , | NH, USA | Hopeless | April 22, 2016

(A group of friends and I travel to New Hampshire to campaign for a political candidate. We are sleeping on the floor of a community center in a tiny town with very few food options, and since we’ve traveled with a group from our school, none of us have access to a car. After a long day of knocking on doors in the snow, we desperately try to find a restaurant that delivers, to no avail. We set out to the nearest place we can find, which is about a 20-minute walk. We get there at least a few minutes before the stated closing time, but there is already a woman sweeping the front entrance, so I know they are done for the night. Since I work in food service and hate people who demand complicated meals right before we close, I told my friends we should just go home. Then, the woman opens the door and motions us in, out of the cold.)

Woman: “What can I do for you all?”

Me: “I’m really sorry; I know you’re trying to close. We were just looking for a place to get something to eat.”

Woman: “I’m afraid our kitchen is closed, but I can get you guys some drinks from the bar while you warm up.”

Me: “You’re very kind, but we’re really hungry, and since we’re all under 21 I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Woman: “Most of the places in town are closed, but there’s a Mexican place about a 10-minute drive from here that’s open for another hour. Do you have a car?”

Me: “No, but thanks for the suggestion. We can walk or take a cab.”

Woman: “Don’t be silly; I’ll give you guys a lift.”

(Before we can say anything, she takes her apron off, runs to the kitchen, and comes back with her purse and keys. She ends up driving us to the restaurant in her minivan. During the conversation that follows, we find out that she owns the restaurant, while also working as a nurse because she doesn’t make enough from the restaurant to pay the bills. She also has a daughter in college, about our age. During the ride, we all pool our cash and try to pay her for her time and gas.)

Woman: “Absolutely not. You kids just make sure to pay it forward someday.”

(I will probably never see this woman again, but I think of her all the time and the kindness she showed us.)

The Last Gesture Just Takes The Cake

, , , | Brechin, Scotland, UK | Hopeless | April 19, 2016

(A friend and I are out for lunch. We’re both somewhat socially awkward and have been quiet and stumbling over our words a bit when speaking to others since entering. We’re attempting to pay for our meal and not doing the best job of it. We’ve been trying to sort out coins and not drop any while talking for about a minute and a half.)

Me: *mumbling* “So, uh, that would’ve been three pounds… or would it have been two? And added to yours it would be—”

Friend: “I think the drinks were two fifty? And added to the meal—”

Me: “But how much each is that? Do we pay the whole thing split in half or for our own meals separately or—”

Lady At The Till: “Would you like me to tell you how much it was each?”

(The relief must be visible on our faces because she smiles at us, and then gives us the prices for our meals separately. After we’ve paid, however, I realise a slight problem; there was something we hadn’t paid for due to having split it between us and not a slice each since there had only been one left.)

Me: “Wait, what about the cake? Do we… do we pay for that half each since we split it? Or should I pay since I had the cheaper meal? Or—”

Lady At The Till: “Don’t worry about the cake. You can just have it on us.”

(We were both surprised by this and spent a little while longer stumbling over our words while asking if she was sure. She assured us that she was and was remarkably patient about the whole thing. We thanked her and left. It was a small thing, really, but it left me feeling warm inside the rest of the day.)

A Good Sign(s) Of The Times

, , , , , | London, England, UK | Hopeless | April 19, 2016

(I am deaf, and so I communicate mostly by reading lips and using BSL (British Sign Language). I frequent a coffee shop every day on my way to work, but since the place is always busy and in a rush I usually have my order written down to speed things along. This time however, was different.)

Me: *hands barista my order on paper*

Barista: *looks down at the paper, and then up at me, and then beams a huge smile*

(All of a sudden, the barista starts talking to me in fluent BSL!)

Barista: *in BSL* “Hi, I was hoping I’d catch you today!”

Me: *replying in BSL* “You know BSL?”

Barista: “Just a little. Ever since you’ve been coming in and felt like you had to write your order down on paper, I didn’t feel comfortable with it. I think you should be able to order just like everyone else, so I started learning BSL. How am I doing?”

(At this point I start tearing up, and am so emotional I can barely sign.)

Me: “I think… that’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.”

Barista: “It is absolutely my pleasure. Now, shall I get you your regular?”

(It has been years since that encounter, and every day the barista was there we would have a small chat in BSL. She has since left but we remain in touch and I always thank her for that day when someone learnt a whole language just to make me fit in.)

1 Thumbs
1,075
VOTES

Warrants A Good Action

, , , , | AB, Canada | Hopeless | April 18, 2016

(I’ve been pinching pennies for months. My house in a town three hours away has been listed for sale for five months and I’m living in a tiny rental room near my new job, so I’m paying for my house, taxes, bills, plus a rental, and finances are tight. I found out a few days before that my transmission needs to be fixed for $2700 or replaced for $3500. This bill will cripple my finances at this time. I am at a dealership service department.)

Me: “I’m here to drop off my car for an inspection; I’m really really hoping it’s covered under warranty. Can you call me if the bill is going to go over $100?”

Serviceman: “Yes, we sure can. If the repair turns out to be under warranty then the inspection is covered, too. If not then the inspection fee is less than $100 for sure.”

(Six hours later…)

Serviceman: “Hi there, has your car had any work on it in the past on the transmission?”

Me: “Yes, there was a fix to the axle or something in January. I’m sorry; I don’t remember all the details anymore, though.”

Serviceman: “Did you pay for that work? Where did you get it done?”

Me: “In [Other Auto Repair Shop].”

Serviceman: “Well, they used the wrong part and that fix would have been covered under your warranty, so I’m going to cover this whole mess under your warranty so it won’t cost you anything else.”

(He couldn’t have been nicer about it! I’ll be taking them some freshly-baked treats when I get my car back later this week!)

Park That Thought(fullness)

, , , | Worcester, MA, USA | Hopeless | April 11, 2016

(During our mother’s final days, my sister “camped out” at the hospital with her for days on end. The parking garage charged an hourly rate, with a maximum of $8 per day. My sister hands the parking ticket to the cashier on her way out.)

Cashier: *not looking up* “That will be $24.”

Sister: *in tears, tries to count out the money*

Cashier: *looking up, sees my sister, and immediately tears up the ticket* “Oh, you lost your ticket. That will be $8.”

Page 144/146First...142143144145146