I go to drop off packages at the post office, and the line is outside because of health and safety requirements, so I stand in line, too.

I finally get inside and there are six people standing around waiting to just drop off packages. The working folks are busy so they don’t pay any mind to us. I’m a bit frustrated because usually you just drop them off.

So, we are all standing there, and I turn slightly to my right. There is a huge box with a sign that says that prepaid drop-offs can go in this box. I say, “Ha! A box! I just had to read the sign!”

I drop my things in said box and leave. As I leave, I hear a collective groan and three other people say, “Read the signs!” as they toss their boxes in the box and leave, too.

Related:
Not Thinking Outside The PO Box

About two months ago, I purchased a new car; it had a ninety-day trial of a subscription music service. I’ve gotten numerous letters encouraging me to subscribe.

Today, I’m at work. I’m trying to work. I get a call from a telemarketer asking how my trial of the service is going and offering me three more months for only $2. I reply that I don’t really find value in their offering, because I have a two-mile commute and don’t get that much time to listen. Plus, I say, I don’t want to get signed up for something that will then cost me $20 a month.

The telemarketer won’t accept that answer and says, “You’re under no obligation; you can cancel at any time.”

I reply, “That’s great! I’m canceling this call right now! Goodbye!”

My friends and I went somewhere in a commute van. On our way home, we were all tired and drained of energy. My friend started to feel sleepy so she slept without realizing that she was already leaning her head on my shoulder.

The ride home was silent and cold, and I started to feel drowsy myself. But it was hard for me to sleep since I was sitting on a jumpseat of the van we were riding and I was worried that my friend’s head would hit something because of how bumpy the road was.

Then, without realizing it, I fell asleep comfortably. By the time we reached our town, I woke up feeling that the person behind me, a complete stranger, was holding my head for support so that I wouldn’t fall or hit my head while sleeping.

That woman behind me made me realize that there are still good people in this world. What she did may be simple but it meant a lot for me. I never got the chance to thank her for what she did but I will never forget her, and I’ll always have her as the reason to believe that there’s still good in this cruel world.

This story is included in our Feel-Good roundup for July 2020!

Read the next Feel-Good Story here!

Read the July 2020 Feel-Good roundup!

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am an exercise science major. For one of my classes, we have to perform a treadmill test on one student and use the data collected for a lab write-up.

The day of the lab, my class prior to this is also in the exercise science laboratory, so I am sitting in a chair inside when my professor walks in. She asks me to come and help her set up the lab because I did the same lab with the same professor last semester for a different class.

I go in and start to put together the headpiece that will monitor the subject’s breathing. The rest of the small class walks in — only five people — and they stand around talking amongst themselves until the professor asks them who is going to be the subject. They decide to use “nose goes” to determine who the subject will be.

I do not participate because I have gloves on to keep the headpiece sanitary — it goes inside of the subject’s mouth — and I kind of assume I am exempt from this because I am basically setting up the whole lab by myself. The only things that have to be done after this are connecting the headpiece to a tube and writing down the data that a computer collects for us.

The other students don’t care about this and tell me that I have to be the subject because I lost “nose goes.” I agree because I’m not a confrontational person due to my severe anxiety. So, the professor and one other student help me put on the headpiece. As they are putting it on, the professor tells me she is taking off my glasses to get it on, but she’ll put them back on before the test starts. The professor then gets distracted because my heart rate monitor is not working and forgets about my glasses.

This is a very big problem because I am almost legally blind with my glasses, and I try to tell her this, but I can’t speak due to the headpiece. So, they start the treadmill and I quickly realize how bad this is. The treadmill is all black, so I am unable to tell the difference between the belt and the plastic siding. During the first minute of the test, I step too far forward, partway onto the front plastic, and almost trip.

This sends me into panic mode, because I know I am going to fall, hurt myself, and completely embarrass myself by the end of this fifteen-minute test. I try to hold onto the sides of the treadmill for security, but the professor hits my hands away and tells me I can’t do this. So, I start to flap my hands, one of my stims that I use to calm myself when I get incredibly anxious. 

At the three-minute mark, another student holds a paper in front of my face to determine my rating of perceived exertion, or how hard I feel the test is at this point. I try to tell them I can’t see the words on the paper, but they take me gesturing towards the paper as pointing at a specific rating and then tell me not to talk so I don’t mess up the data.

I get seven minutes into the test. My vision is going black and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I later find out that I was way above my maximum healthy heart rate and the test should have been stopped, but the students were not paying any attention to my heart rate so it went unnoticed.

I finally decide that I can no longer go on with the test and give them the indication that I need to stop. My professor asks me to go “one more minute” but then notices my heart rate and tells the other students that I need to get off the treadmill immediately. The test is stopped, the headpiece is removed, and I am able to sit in a chair. I’m shaking and hyperventilating, still feel like I’m about to have a heart attack, and am incredibly embarrassed that I was unable to complete the test and that I’m having a full-blown panic attack in front of my class.

The professor looks over the data and sees the ratings of perceived exertion that were collected when I was wildly gesturing towards the paper. She asks me, “Why did you rate these so low; wasn’t the test hard for you? You were having a hard time.”

I manage to basically hiss out between my gasps for breath, “I couldn’t see. You didn’t give me my glasses back. I’m almost blind.”

The professor shuts up and the other students get me to re-rate the test. After this, I am able to go home, thinking that this will be the end of it.

However, the professor proceeds to mention how I was unable to complete the test every week, assuming it was because I was out of shape, not because I was having a panic attack. This is so embarrassing that I end up having minor panic attacks before I go to this class every day, fearing that she is going to mention it again.

I wish there was some sort of incredible ending to this story where I stood up for myself and yelled at the professor, but due to a certain illness outbreak, I ended up having to complete the class online and did not have to deal with that professor for the rest of the semester.

I work at a pizza place that has an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet and salad bar at a pretty cheap price. Due to the global health crisis, we have added several safety precautions such as no more than six people per table, no moving tables together, and applying hand sanitizer and gloves before using the buffet/salad bar.

One morning, a group of about twenty senior citizens comes into the restaurant right when it opens and they move a bunch of tables and chairs together. It ends up being about fourteen people at one table and five at another. Of course, the only reason they didn’t have all of them at the same table was that there was no room to add another table.

I tell them the policy about no more than six. This guy in a red shirt says, “What are you, the cops?” so I get the manager, but he says to let it slide. It’s not a decision I agree with, but he is the boss. So, I do.

A little bit later, guess who goes to the buffet? Red Shirt Guy. Of course, he doesn’t apply hand sanitizer or gloves, so we tell him to not use the buffet until he does, and he ignores us. When we ask him, he says again, “What are you, the cops?” before, thankfully, doing as requested.

Then, Red Shirt Guy goes to get a salad. I’m sure you can see where this is going.

We ask him, in the interest of the health and safety of the other customers, that he apply gloves and hand sanitizer before using the salad bar.

“What are you, the cops?” Then, he asks if we are going kick him out.

I tell him that I would be happy to ask the manager to do so. I go to get the manager and then the guy tries it again! So, I tell him, louder and firmer, for the interest of the health and safety of the other customers, to please use gloves and hand sanitizer before using the salad bar.

The manager tells him to follow the rules or he will be kicked out. The guy doesn’t cause anymore commotions, and I probably would chalk it up to just another entitled jerk if it wasn’t for the last thing.

A little bit before the Red Shirt Guy leaves, he calls me over and “apologizes.” He says that he just wanted to “push the envelope.” So, basically, he just wanted to see how much of an a**hole he could be before he got kicked out. He never “apologized” to the coworker in charge of the salad bar and buffet who he harassed more than me. What an a**hole.