A couple of years ago, I was working on Black Friday while also getting over a bug whose last stage included severe laryngitis. I had absolutely no voice left, so I had taken to keeping lozenges stashed behind the register so I could at least whisper a little. A woman was in the store looking for something to wear to an unexpected event and she had a terrible cough, so I went and got one of my trusty Halls and gave it to her. You'd have thought I had offered her a kidney she was so grateful. Turned out she'd been having quite the week and coming to the mall on Black Friday didn't help matters. I've had people actually hug me when they wanted to buy something that some inconsiderate person had gotten makeup on or had lost a button and I went in the back to fix it, because it was slow in the store and my coworker and I had nothing better to do. It's amazing what those little things mean to people, even though you don't think you're doing something all that special.

I once slipped someone a Vicodin for his headache. He was so grateful to me.

(Yes, I'm kidding.)

I'm trying to think of my last act of kindness...how depressing. I can't think of any. I must be a mean person.

Um, Patrick? I think this was pretty kind of you:

Brian, why not discuss relationships here? I do. Have you forgotten what this blog's owner does for a living?

I could quote Amy columns ad nauseum to address your misconceptions about relationships, but I agree with Flynne: It's very sad, and I wish things were better for you relationship-wise. I freely admit that you don't do a thing for me. I don't say that to be mean (not that you're going to kill yourself because I'm not attracted to you), but at this juncture, it would be silly for me to pretend I think you're "all that." But I can't believe there isn't someone who would appreciate what you have to offer. I'm positive there's some women out there willing to buy what you're selling.

Sometimes, a kind word is all it takes.

Just sayin'.

I read a small book titled The richest man in town, inspired by Marty; by V.J. Smith. It tells the tale of an older gentleman who ran a cash register at Walmart and how he took the time with each customer to listen to them and give them a hug. Touching many lives. The author states Marty showed him how to be a better person, not one wealthier or more successful or more powerful and changed his life -- forever. Showing how the simplest act of kindness can leave a lasting impression.

>>I'm trying to think of my last act of kindness...how depressing. I can't think of any. I must be a mean person.

I was raised that way. My mother's mother, and probably her mother as well, who knows how far back, were nasty, mean people, and it passed down from generation to generation. We not only didn't know how to be nice; it never seemed to occur to us to be nice.

And, we thought our nasty made us superior to other people.

In 1969, I observed a man at work do an unbelievable act of kindness for a new employee. I was stunned, and asked him why he did it. He said it won't cost him that much, and it helped the new kid a lot.

This caused me to change my life. Next, I eventually chose to separate myself from my family so my kids would not learn their nasty ways.

One chooses every day to be nasty or to be kind. Life can change if you want it to.

Just last week, at the gym, a lady dropped her cell phone after using the treadmill. Several people just looked at it and then went back to what they were doing. I jumped off the eliptical, grabbed it and ran after her. She seemed so happy!

Not to sex harass or anything, Amy, but I think you'd look cute on a broom, especially wearing that adorable long black dress you wore in the picture in the snow a while back.

I got nominated for sainthood once, when an old lady in front of me at the checkout dropped a couple of fives and didn't realize it. I picked them up and gave them to her, and between her gratitude and the clerk gushing about how wonderful I was, you'd think a halo was shining over my head.

I walked home feeling good about it, but a little depressed that doing the right thing seemed so unusual.

Once when my husband and I were going out to breakfast we saw a car with a woman in the front seat. As we drove by it appeared that she was passed out. We jumped out confirmed that she was breathing and called 911. A policeman showed up quickly, took over care, and ushered us away. It turned out that the woman had been sitting there for about 30 minutes in the Texas heat, passed out and no one went to check on her. Again, from the cop's perspective we were heroes. We just did what we hoped someone else would do if we were sick.

I've also invented a game I call 'Traffic Karma'. For every time I change lanes, I try to let someone else in ahead of me. If each person did that, the freeways would be a lot less nasty.

-Julie

I meant, it seemed so unusual to the other women.

Oh, giving her back the money is definitely my normal behavior--my grandma's ghost would come and whup me if I even thought of keeping it!

It's getting harder to do good deeds these days. I learned while being a trucker with my ex, that the "knights of the road" as truckers used to be known, is too unsafe these days. It used to be if they saw someone walking with a gas can, or a car pulled over needing help, a truck driver would come to the rescue.

Doesn't happen much anymore. It turns out to be a trap way too often.

And helping a little kid in distress can get you accused of being a pedophile or kidnapper.

My husband and I gave a young man a ride home one New Year's Eve, when he crashed the bicycle he was riding in the snow right in front of us. He was all right, except his ankle hurt and he was a little drunk. Nobody had a cell phone (they hadn't become so popular at that point) and there wasn't much traffic.

Anyway, we gave him a ride, and nobody mugged anybody (and he took his chances too, riding with strangers) and it was just the right thing to do.

I don't think there are that many more "bad" people out there, but I think there will be, if fear keeps smothering our better impulses.

And doesn't it make you feel better when you're nice than when you're mean? I once read, in a philosophy course, that there is no real altruism because even doing something small but nice makes us feel good, and that's our "payment". Being nice makes me want to be nice some more.

I read a little story in our local paper about a 19-year-old Dane who came to the U.S. and rode her bicycle from D.C. to Los Angeles, stopping in our little town of Cambria on the Central CA coast. She said her friends had begged her not to make the journey because "all Americans are selfish, rude people". She said she found America to be a beautiful country with lovely, friendly, helpful people from coast to coast. That was a nice little story.

It's a great story, laurie.

I did some hitchhiking in my twenties. It started out as a backpacking trip to Arizona that just...got changed. Anyway, almost everyone that gave me a ride warned me about the dangers of what I was doing. The worst thing that actually happened was having a firecracker tossed at me that came nowhere near me.

I'm not belittling the dangers. It's just a fact that for me it turned out to be an adventure that left me with some wonderful memories, and I met some great people.

On the other hand, you can be an innocent jogger in an area you know, and end up as a victim in a shallow grave.

Might as well have fun with your life. Things change just, like, that.

Ugh, you had to remind me, didn't you? I'm used to doing little nice things like that, but the last time I gave someone directions, I had it in my mind that I was on a totally different street, and gave them completely wrong directions because of it. Man, did I feel stupid.

On the other hand, a friend and I were once told by a waitress at the Waffle House that we frequented at the time, that we had completely turned her life around by the simple fact of always smiling and thanking her when she would bring our food or refill our coffee. She said that eventually it had changed her outlook on life.

I try to perform random acts of kindness. It doesn't take much.

But what freaked me out was a few cars had passed me on a small back road. I get up the road a few miles and I saw 2 women and a kid grabbing stuff out of a burning car. I stopped and got them away from it.

When the deputy and fire department showed up the deputy thanked me for stopping. My thoughts were "Am I the strange one?"

I was in the grocery store one day, and as I was going down an aisle, I noticed a lady in front of me pushing a cart. She had a toddler in the cart's seat, and her purse and wallet were also in the seat. I noticed that the wallet was hanging halfway out of the cart. So I kept an eye on it as I looked through the aisle. Sure enough, a minute later, the fidgeting toddler pushed it out of the cart and on to the floor. And the lady kept going down the aisle without noticing.

I fetched the wallet, walked up, and handed it back to her. She said, "Why, you're a gentleman!" It was one of the nicest compliments I've ever gotten.

I had one of those wretched days where a single act of kindness managed to mean so much to me. It was a really awful day at work, so I went to go get fast food (so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone). At this point, I was near tears, someone had been so horrible to me.

But I get up to the register, and the wonderful woman who was working it looked at me, grabbed my hand and said "Don't you worry honey. It'll get better. God has a plan for you and it will get better, I promise."

When I left, I stopped her at her register and told her how that little kindness had made it so much easier for me to go back to work. I must've thanked her ten times. Her name was Debbie. I memorized it. From then on, I always asked after Miss Debbie whenever I was there.