Positive, feel-good stories

The Sweet Smell Of Making Things Right

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: skeptical32 | July 2, 2021

I work for a large department store. From time to time, we don’t have a product that someone wants. We can order it for them, and normally, it’s free shipping.

Customer: “Hi. I just received some luggage that I ordered, and it got totally destroyed in transit. Can I bring it in for a refund or an exchange if I can find anything I like?”

Me: “Of course! Please bring it in. Just remember to bring your receipt with you; it’ll make the transaction much quicker and easier.”

When I come off my meal break, she is there and looking at other pieces.

Coworker: “This is your customer with the messed-up luggage.”

Me: “Thank you.” *To the customer* “Can I please have your receipt and the details of your purchase?”

After she gives me those things, the customer starts looking at other pieces and I start the inspection process. I kid you not, this luggage smells like someone tried to smuggle a baby shark in it. It smells so bad I almost puke in the case. I wrap it up, type up the information, and put the luggage in the back far away from me.

The woman is so nice and I feel terrible for her. I help her find two new pieces of luggage and she buys some other travel items. Even with the return, she spends $106 with some change to our local charity adding to $107. She is so happy with our customer service she actually expresses it.

Customer: “I was so upset that my stuff came in so crappy, but you made me feel so much better. And you helped me find some great deals!”

I have had grumpy people, but this lady made my day.

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I Want To Be This Kind Of Person When I Grow Up

, , , , , | Right | CREDIT: CMPD2K | June 26, 2021

About a week or two ago, my girlfriend got a $200 tip at her restaurant from an older couple. She said they were very nice and low maintenance and left before she could see their tip.

Today, I get sat an older couple. The entire time, they are incredibly polite and low maintenance. They are very kind and thankful, in and out quickly, etc. When I go to bus their table, I notice a note.

Note: “Excellent food! Outstanding service! Thank you.”

That was clearly nice and made me happy, but then I looked down. I honestly didn’t believe it at first and it took me a minute to process, but they tipped me $200 on a $50 bill.

Afterward, I called my girlfriend, and we believe, based on the descriptions we had, that they were the same couple.

I wish I had gotten to thank them in person. The money came at a time when it was really needed!

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These People Are Extra Good At Kindness

, , , , , , , | Healthy | June 25, 2021

About a year ago, I decided to become a non-directed kidney donor. I live alone — except a five-month-old husky puppy — with all of my family in other states a good 2,000 miles away from where I’d just moved a year prior. As the surgery date started to approach, I needed to get things in order. I tend to be both very independent and overly optimistic about what I can get done on my own. Due to their own life difficulties, none of my family would be coming out to stay with me pre- or post-surgery. The following is a brief summary of the many wonderful ways I was reminded of just how wonderful people are.

My puppy: my puppy was a rescue I had found by the side of the road at the start of the health crisis. I’d just started going to the dog park with him when the surgery got scheduled. The surgery came up in conversation, and three different strangers volunteered to come to pick him up and bring him for walks and to the dog park. Another new friend with a small baby and a puppy of their own offered, without being asked, to take him for the entire hospital stay. 

Homecare: while I was recovering from surgery, at least a dozen different people stopped by to clean my home, take my dog out, bring me meals, and help me get up to exercise. Several people also heard that I was not eating because of how bad I felt and made it a point to either bring me the only things I could stomach (variations on dry breads) or sit on the phone with me and go through menus until they said something that sounded edible. 

School: I am a graduate student and did not fully appreciate the impact it would have on my semester, nor how much my classmates and professors would care. Every single professor continuously checked up on me and went out of their way to accommodate me as much as possible. One even dropped off special homemade soup at my home. Several classmates were kind and patient enough to review and reteach me whole units because I was too doped up on drugs to properly understand them the first time. They gave me rides to the store, took me out walking, and just sat patiently with me while I was miserable. 

Possibly the sweetest was in the hospital. The night after the surgery was the worst. The anesthesia was finally wearing off and they had to double my pain meds, but the oxygen monitor kept going off every time I started to fall asleep. Apparently, I breathe shallowly when asleep. It was so awful and it was really late at night or early in the morning and I just felt so miserable and alone. I definitely was not rational and was extremely emotional. I proceeded to start going down my friend list on my phone calling people just to see if anyone was up and could keep me company. Every person I called answered. Half of them just read Jane Austen to me until I calmed down or would just talk so I could hear a familiar voice. The last person I called stayed on with me until the doctor came back around and was able to change the meds and get me off the oxygen so I could sleep. 

With the exception of the people on the phone, none of these people had known me for more than a few months, and I’d only met most of them a handful of times. I’m doing great now, as is the donee. I’m doing so well, in fact, that it is easy to forget that the experience even happened — except when I look down at my scars, and then I get the chance to remember how a group of near-strangers took care of me like I was their sister, daughter, granddaughter, and friend. 

People really are remarkable.

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Tipped To Be A Good Day, Part 2

, , , , | Right | June 24, 2021

The restaurant where I work was closed for the first few months of the current health crisis, but we reopen on the fourth of July weekend with a holiday dinner pick-up offer: fried chicken with multiple sides and dessert, enough for four people. It proves very popular, and we are super busy all weekend. On Tuesday, the phone rings.

Me: “Hello, [Restaurant].”

Woman: “Hi, I’m so glad I reached you. My husband and I ordered the special dinner over the holiday weekend—”

I brace for a complaint.

Woman: “—and it was absolutely delicious! And I realized when I looked at our receipt that I had forgotten to add on a tip when I made the order. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t tip you all for doing all that work, and on a holiday, no less. Would you be able to run my card for a tip belatedly?”

Me: “I… Sure! How much did you want to tip?”

Woman: “Twenty-five percent, please. Thank you again. I am so glad to see you all open, and I hope we get the chance to support you again soon!”

That made my afternoon! And thanks to her and other generous customers like her, we’re still open!

Tipped To Be A Good Day

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A New Kind Of Drinking Problem

, , , , , , | Right | June 24, 2021

Coffee shops have opened up again after a health-related lockdown. I’m a new mum and surviving on very little sleep. I’m hormonal, emotional, and tired.

I excitedly order my usual drink, try to hold a decent conversation with the cashier whilst half asleep, and move to wait.

My name is called. I say thanks, grab my drink, and take a big gulp… forgetting I’m wearing a mask. Coffee goes all down my dress and into my bra, and I drop my drink in surprise.

I’m bright red and unsure whether to laugh or cry, and the cashier is looking at me in horror. She grabs lots of tissues and comes round the counter, helping me manoeuvre my pram out of the way and clearing up my mess.

I’m apologising over and over, but she shrugs it off and says it’s fine. I manage to blot away the excess and she makes a joke about my dress looking better in brown. It makes me giggle.

They remake my drink, give me a muffin, and even give me a voucher for a free drink next time.

I am so touched I tear up, to which the cashier says, “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your mascara, too!”

Best coffee shop ever!

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