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This is a question The nicest thing someone's ever done for me

In amongst all the tales of bitterness and poo, we occasionally get fluffy stories that bring a small tear to our internet-jaded eyes.

In celebration of this, what is the nicest thing someone's done for you? Whether you thoroughly deserved it or it came out of the blue, tell us of heartwarming, selfless acts by others.

Failing that, what nice things have you done for other people, whether they liked it or not?

(, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 16:14)
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Daniel Kitson once said...
..."have you ever found yourself performing a genuinely selfless, noble deed, and thought 'if ONLY there was some way other people could find out about this?'"

Well here's my chance.

I was just 18, and at my first proper gig with my first proper friends - The Offspring at Brixton Academy (oh, shut up - I was young and they're a fun band, you jaded purists)

I was having the time of my life; my first proper mosh pit with 1000's of rockers; which was something of a novelty, coming from a small town where almost everyone my age was into whatever crummy loop-fest genre came between rave and drum and bass. Dj Hype and the like.

At about the 4th/5th song, I spotted a young black girl who didn't look quite right... i couldn't see her irises. After a few seconds i realised she was barely conscious, and that the only reason she was upright at all was because there wasn't the room to fall sideways. She was being jostled around like a ragdoll without the room to inhale properly and with no way out. She HAD to get out of there before a gap formed to let her fall and be trampled.

I pushed & shoved my way through the crowd to get to her, locked my arms in a protective hoop around her midriff, and with no small effort pulled her out of the pit towards the sides; kept her upright and repeated the panicked mantra "hey... are you ok? hello?" until she finally got enough air to nod and say thanks. I smiled, nodded and went back into the pit... only to spot a skinny young white guy in pretty much the same predicament, though at least compos-mentis enough to be looking around desperately. I shoved my way through, locked my arms around him again and pulled him back, pissing off no small amount of people as I barged them out of the way.

I got a breathless "thanks, man", nodded, smiled, and turned around to enjoy the rest of the gig... and saw a skinny white girl stuck in the sweaty, barge-y, inescapable (if you're of normal build) hellhole that is most moshpits.

Oh, FFS. I did the same act again, and again a few minutes later... and again, and again. I couldn't enjoy the rest of the gig. I spent the entire time worrying, fretting, and on the lookout for my fellow rockers in peril. I don't know how many people I pulled out of that place, but somewhere between 20 and 30. Nobody else seemed to care about anything but getting as near to the stage as possible.

Eventually I was knackered and bruised and sweaty and my feet were sore top and botton and I just couldn't cope with the worry anymore... I went to the foyer for a ciggy, and just waited for the gig to end. When I eventually met up with them, all my friends were so happy and excited to have seen such an awesome gig that I didn't dare mention I'd spent almost the whole time worried that people were about to die, in case I killed the buzz.

And when i DID tell people about it a day or two later, they gave me an odd look - not sure whether to congratulate me or tell me to shut up for boasting.

I was (probably) the only one of 4000 people to have given more of a shit about random strangers than about seeing one of my favourite bands at the time. I had a shit time; not dancing, not listening, not enjoying myself, but going through a lot of physical exertion, toe-stomps and elbows to the ribs and head just for the sake of not wanting to see people I'd never see again getting hurt.

In the following week's Kerrang I got a thank-you in the letters page (at least, i assume it was for me) which made me happy.

I realised that being nice and helping others wasn't at all fun and has no rewards: even telling people about it makes you look a bit of a turd for boasting. But there is a strange sense of satisfaction that comes with it.

Anyway... 10 years on, and I listen to jazz and hip-hop now. Much calmer gigs.
(, Thu 2 Oct 2008, 23:54, 12 replies)
Ooh I dunno
You have to watch out for those crazy jazz hands. Have someone's eye out, they will.

But onya for your tireless medevac-ness.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 0:09, closed)
as a 5'2 girl with a love for teh rawk, i am very grateful for the likes of you.
if only more people at gigs were as considerate.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 1:02, closed)
& requesting the letter if you've still got it!
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 1:39, closed)
...my ex-girlfriends mid-90's kerrang back issues might be a little hard to come by :)

It basically said "a big thank you to the dude at the offspring gig who helped pull me out of the crowd when i was stuck, love Caz". For all i know it could've been someone else, but I like to think it was for me.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 10:01, closed)

Not to detract from a worthy act, but where were the stewards? Just curious, already clicked.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 5:29, closed)
There were plenty there...
...but they were all behind the barriers in front of the band, and had their hands full with dragging down 'surfers. There were a couple more guarding the fire exits at the sides.

They should have sort-of lifeguards on a ladder somewhere, ready to leap down into the crowd if someone's getting buried. Trouble is, you need to be quite burly - not just to push your way through, but so the people youve just wrenched out of the way don't have the nerve to punch you for it.

Thanks for all the compliments, everyone.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 9:56, closed)
we needed you
When we were 16 a bunch of my friends and I went to a festival, as you do. Cas is about 5 feet tall, gorgeous and all of 45 kilos.

We were watching our first band of the day and moshing. Someone picked Cas up and threw her overhead to crowdsurf (which she did not want to do as it mostly entailed a bunch of sweaty foul men groping her, she had no ability to get down and could not see the show.

It had been raining the night before so the organisers had put down theose white plastic non-slip things they do.

So it gets to the end of the set and Cas just got dropped. All the big sewaty boys just walked away and she fell. No one helped her.

She landed half on-half off the non-slip mat. She broke her coxis (sp?)- tail bone anyway and it deviated to the side. Every time she moved it cut at her muscle. She was in incredible pain, it took her (in these pre mobile phone days) nearly 2 hours to find us again and another hour for us to find the mdical help and get them to her.

She couldn't walk properly for the rest of the summer.

She's very lucky.

If she'd landed differently she could have become paraplegic.

She never moshed again.

We could have used someone like you that day.

BTW- click
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 5:51, closed)
Cunts. The lot of them.

And as you asked, it's spelt "coccyx".
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 9:50, closed)
I'm only an ickle girl but I like gigs as much as the next person. I personally cant stand it when I'm getting shoved around when I just want to watch the band. I tend to stay towards the back for most gigs now.
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 9:40, closed)
Strangely, being ickle worked for my gf...
...she'd duck down and wriggle her way right to the front of of the gig, then clutch the barriers and get a great view for most of the show.

Mind you, she sort of *liked* pain and bruises in a way i found slightly disturbing

(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 10:07, closed)
When I was 16 I went to a concert and basically got thrown upside down and landed on my head. Someone like you helped me up. Thank you!

I think my Mom would have been sad had I died at my first concert :(
(, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 19:59, closed)
another thank you
i too am just a small fella and had a simliar expierence at the download festival in england, first time travelling out of nz, biggest crowed id been in was at the super market!! long story short got all twanged up in a mosh pit dragged out with a busted nose and some stranger helping me clean my self up! go the good people
(, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 9:34, closed)

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