Don't try to teach me about karma.
So far this year I have:
1) Found a smartphone on the floor outside a pub on NYE and tried my hardest to find it's owner. Put out some questions on facebook, left a poster in the pub, reported it to police. I couldn't phone anyone from it as it was locked.
2) Found two purses left by customers in the pub I work at. Chased one down the street to give it back, kept the other safe.
3) Lent a stranger my phone so he could ring his, as he'd misplaced it.
4) Pointed out that an elderly man had overpaid me by £10, despite his protestations that he hadn't.
5) Run up a hill to an old lady getting on a bus, who was in front of me in the post office and had dropped her stamps.


Just before Christmas me and my new wife hired a car and drove 220 miles to register her fingerprints for her visa. It finally arrived about 3 weeks ago, and cost £500.
2 weeks ago, when we were out for a drink (not on the piss, we only had two) her wallet was stolen. It contained 7 pounds, debit cards, and her new residents permit.
The wallet hasn't been found. I assume they took the cash and binned the rest.
As a result we now have to hire another car and take another 440-mile round-trip to re-submit her prints.
I'm not a violent man (I've nothing to be violent with) but so help me god, if I ever find out who took it...
Karma can go fuck itself. Hard.
(Paolo Nutini's Bikini Better than Frederick Fleet's optometrist, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 14:09, 14 replies)

Found
Cash of €1,000.00 and bank drafts worth €10,000.00 on the bus home. Tracked down the company on the phone book and give it to them. We'll get you something to show our appreciation, they said asking for my phone number.

Never heard from them again, bastards.
( The Scrunt Wants a Dozen Pints, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 13:51, 5 replies)

Rain...

me and the missus had just moved into our new place. Lots and lots of shifting stuff, unpacking and generally getting the place liveable. Midnight comes, as does a storm, and we're just about to go to bed then

DING-DONG!

Someone at the door. So I answer it and this amiable idiot is standing there, rain sleeting down his cheeks

"I'm sorry to bother you mate but - any chance of a push?"

"What? Eh? - It's midnight, pissing down, and you want me to give you a push? - Call the AA mate." And I shut the door.

Missus looks at me reproachfully.

"Remember the first time you took me camping? Remember getting the car stuck in the mud? Remember how that farmer dragged us out of the mud at 3 in the morning? And wouldn't accept any thanks?"

I knew when I was beaten. So I pulled on a coat and walked outside.

"Oy - mate!' I yelled "Where are you? - I'll give you a push"

"I'm over here! - On the swings...."
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 12:38, 9 replies)

Random Act of Unwanted Kindness
On holiday I suffered a slight tear to a ligament in my leg. It healed up fairly quickly, but back home I managed to do the same thing again a few weeks later.

This time the pain was worse and I could only hobble slowly. I found a "Leki" walking pole in the depths of the cupboard and set off to work. I reached the stop, sat down and a black guy asked me "What bus are you waiting for mate?" I told him. A few minutes later he said "Your bus is here!" I thanked him, but was a little puzzled.

I got on the bus and swiped my Oyster Card. As I did so, my benefactor leapt on the bus and shouted at the driver "Make sure he gets off at the right stop; he's blind!!"

It was then I twigged - it was a white walking pole!
( Vambo, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 12:31, 2 replies)

Thanks, but...
I'd just finished shopping with the GF. While I took the trolley back to the rank, she took a moment to sit in a corner, by the main entrance, while she sorted out her change, keys etc. So she's sitting on the pavement, with her large shabby dog next to her. A smart city gent type emerges from the supermarket, packet of luxury croissants in hand, and seeing her makes a reasonable assumption that she's a homeless junkie and tosses a couple of coins down in front of her.

He really couldn't understand why the recipient of his largesse was now chasing him down the road hurling abuse and coins at him.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 11:39, 2 replies)

collapsing bloke
While on the always terrible train to London bridge from Greenwich someone fainted/collapsed next to me. He wasn't small(though not a giant) so people just bundled out of the way. I was next to him and managed to grab him before he hit the floor. I should note at this point that the train was packed. He and I were standing the isle between two seats so there wasn't really anywhere for him to go and they just stared. Three fat ladies previously gossiping about their inability to lose were closest so I asked them to move. They just stared again. So I raised my voice. 'Move, NOW'. The joy of being a big strapping bloke is that raised voices get people moving usually. Got his sunglasses off, into the recovery position, shouted for a doctor. One appeared and everything seemed settled. We pulled into London bridge and got him off the train for the waiting paramedics. I said goodbye and went to work thinking what wankers these people were for just staring at this poor bloke.

wavy lines..

It's my birthday. I'm in the pub with assorted friends/flamates/my sister. I see someone point at me and the bloke who I helped walks over. 'Hi, er my friend just pointed you out as the bloke who helped me when I collapsed on the train. She said you were amazing, took control and looked after me. Can I buy you a pint?'. The table is now agog. I get sheepish, say yes and accept his thanks and say it's just something you do. I really wanted to thank him for his timing, in front of all my close friends I now looked like a fucking hero! So yeah, returned karma :)

Does make me wonder why the friend who recognised me didn't do anything?
(skgorsky, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 10:29, 5 replies)

I selflessly have epileptic fits
to amuse the people around me, especially when I meet someone for the first time. It's a fantastic ice-breaker. You should see their faces as I flop and twitch across the floor! You should, because I never do. But I still know I'm doing the right thing.
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 9:53, 9 replies)

Fit
Can't believe I've only just remembered this....

The gf and I were heading from the local to the casino just before christmas last year. We strolled along in our finery and turned the corner (ss1 if you know where that is in deepest SX) to arrive at a scene of a young lad (late teens) a bike with its front wheel buckled and an equally young girl who was in a right state. Tears and much mascara.

After a couple of quick questions it appears this guy was diabetic and had had a fit whilst on his way to meet his girlfriend, stacked his bike into the nearest wall and was now not responding.

The gf turned him on his side whilst I dashed to the casino to get sugar / hot chocolate, as I'd been told moons ago. By the time I'm back he'd fitted and tried to lump my gf and his. Within 20 seconds he had gone back into a coma. The ambulance arrived about ten minutes later and after 3/4 further fits. He was treated there but they couldn't get a line in due to his thrashing around. A further ten mins passed on the pavement before they could get him in the back of the ambulance where a further ten mins passed. My gf phoned his mum on her phone as she was hardly capable of talking straight between her sobs and tears.

The paramedic came out of the back of the ambulance and advised that he was not stabilising and they had to get off asap. They wouldn't allow the girlfriend in the back of the ambulance, so I went to the taxi rank and paid for a taxi for her to follow her bf to the hospital.

There was not enough time to swap numbers with her but I hope he was ok.
(Suck it and Sea, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 8:27, 7 replies)

I went to the same opshop today (got a workshirt & a tennis racquet for the bub if your interested).
Again just before Chrissy last year. Stinking hot day - I'm talking nearly 40C.
The missus, bairn and I have just stepped out of one of our local opshops arms laden. We're parked on the verge and as we approach the missus car a woman comes from around the corner crying and tells me her car has a flat and asks if I can help her. "Bugger" I think - the missus car so only limited tools and no trolley jack (which I have in my ute)!
So after placating her and making sure her sprog in the car is ok I proceed with jacking her car up using her jack and a screwdriver - we couldn't find the jack handle, I changed over to the spare to find the wheel-nuts didn't fit properly. Not having any spares (I really have to tool up the missus car!) I tightened them up tighter than a rattle-gun could and asked her to do a few laps of the carpark to ensure the nuts wouldn't come loose.
Turns out her ex (who worked at a tyre place no less!) refused to come out to help her. Knowing full well that his son was in the car and that he worked about 5-10 min. away.
Her wheel was on tight (no euphemism) and I told her to go to a tyre place asap to get the correct nuts fitted (let alone getting the spare changed over) and saw her on her way. I hope she did. I also think it would be nice if her ex pulled his fucking finger out.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Thu 16 Feb 2012, 6:27, 2 replies)

A list of acts of random kindness performed by my good self
1. I once saw a puppy who was whimpering because it had hurt it's paw and probably also lost it's master so I slowly and clearly gave it directions to the German embassy.

2. I once gave out life saving anti-polio injections to several potted plants that needed watering

3. I once met a stock exchange broker who was about to jump out of a twenty story window because all his investments had collapsed so I stroked him for a bit, gave him a biscuit and threw a stick for him to chase.

4. I was walking down the street one day when I saw a woman who'd got her brand new patent high heel shoe stuck in a gutter drain so I told not to worry I'm sure that light particles get quantumly entangled with crisp packets

5. I once met a quantum physicist who was all upset because he was worried that his theory concerning light particles, crisp packets and quantum entanglement might be a load of rubbish not to worry because his bum didn't look big in that.
(theteddybearofhate, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 6:06, Reply)

Helping lost Chinese tourists ...
in very bad Mandarin.

I am a yellow hair. That's an unkind Chinese euphemism for a white person. I speak bad pidgeon Mandarin as the result of an odd social experiment in the late eighties, offering Mandarin Chinese lessons to a handful of state high schools (the Australian equivalent of comprehensives).

As a result I can order in a restaurant, give basic directions and make small talk. I can't resist lost Chinese tourists. They are so innocent. They stand on a street corner with an unfolded map squinting up at street signs, trying to navigate and translate at the same time, quite unaware of the flashing neon sign above their heads saying "Mug me!"

The looks of genuine delight as a yellow hair asks if they need any help in bad Mandarin never ceases to cheer me.
(Que?, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 3:10, 4 replies)

We tell our children not to accept lifts from strangers ...
but sadly this sensible rule of caution prevents many kindly acts.

I was dropping my husband at the bus station one day and we drove past a young lass about 10 years old. She was hobbling along the street towards us on crutches with a plaster cast covering most of one leg. She had a heavy school bag on her shoulders and it looked very much like it was about to rain. After dropping hubby at the bus station I drove back past her, still hobbling her way to school. I stopped, offered her a lift to school, whilst smiling cheerily and doing my best not to look like Myra Hindley.

I could see her poor little face performing a risk assessment. Thankfully 'friendly missus with two wee girls in the back of her car. Looks safe enough' won out over 'Mummy told me not to accept lifts from strangers' and I gave her a lift to school. Kind deed done.

However, it put me greatly in mind of a very sad story. As the new Millennium dawned, myself and an army of IT types spent New Years Eve 1999 straight, sober, well paid and rather bored as the predicted catastrophe failed to materialise. The next day, there was a dreadfully sad story in the paper of a young 18 year old lass from a village near Edinburgh who had wanted to get into town for Hogmanay, but missed her bus. So she walked. She was found the next morning frozen to death in a farmer's field.

The last people to see her were a pair of lads heading into Edinburgh. They stopped their car to offer her a lift, but unfortunately, her personal risk assessment, disorientation from the cold and her own mother's words of warning, made her decline. A fatal mistake.

As my own two daughters grow into women, I will tell them this story. The point being, that the best times of their young lives will depend on sometimes taking a risk and trusting someone. Sadly, the rules designed to keep them safe, may in fact endanger them. I hope when they grow up, they will have the right mix of caution and trust.
(Que?, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 2:58, 1 reply)

Milk of human kindness
Well I usually keep to myself when dealing with the general public...

Similar to Davros' Granddad's post, I used to give my day tickets from the bus to the next person boarding, i mean when it happened to me it just put the faith of mankind back into, it felt nice ya know..

When we get the snows I do help owld biddys across the road, I guess its my upbringing and such but I always thought I'd like that done to me when I get a wee bit crinklier..

Best act of kindness bestowed upon me? Finding all sorts of money, cigarettes, cans of super strength larger and even a joint on the floor at work, life is good if you know how to play it.
(Dr_Wookie_Phd The world loves a bastard!, Thu 16 Feb 2012, 1:15, Reply)

Inter-railing 1991
We were on a overnight train from Greece to Turkey.

The train aproached the Turkish border and was stopped for all kind of customs/passport fun. This meant big vicious border guards going through the carriages shouting to wake everyone up.

We have our passports taken off us in the train and told to get off and queue for customs. Being seperated from your pasport is quite worrying.

So we all get off and have to queue to enter a shed where we give our names, have our passports found, and pay either £5 or $5 in cash for a entrance visa.

I had the necsessary sterling so paid up and went back out. Got chatting to some English people in the queue and they were scared as they they didn't have any sterling or dollars. Chat in the queue was that if you couldn't pay then you were left at the station for the next train back to Greece, which could be hours and hours later.

I gave a nice English couple £10 to so they could continue. They took my address and said they would send me a cheque when they got back to Blighty.

Still waiting for that cheque you fuckers !

Still, Istanbul was amazing.
(Bitter and Twisted, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 21:26, 2 replies)

Never own
a ute and/or trailer.
EDITED: For those who haven't yet mastered the skill of mouse-select, right-click "Search with Google".
EDIT x2: When you own a utility vehicle (NOT SUV) and/or a trailer many people seem to think that they can big up your instant karma by asking you if you can help them move house, furniture anything big and bulky.
Hence - never own these things as you will forever be asked to assist with peoples relocations or other heavy lifting jobs.
RIS =
It's like leading horses to water.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Wed 15 Feb 2012, 21:17, 23 replies)

I left my brand new iPhone on the roof of my car.
It was only when I got to work that I realised what I'd done. Totally uninsured and ws going to cost me about 500 quid to replace. Plus, it was a company phone and my old boss was a real cunt. I had it blocked an resigned to having to but a new one but it was a week till payday and I didn't have £500 till then.

3 days later there was a knock at my front door and there stood a bearded Ausie who asked if I'd lost a phone. I said yes, he handed it over and said he'd been trying to find me for 3 days but couldn't catch up with my car on foot. Essentially I pass this guy every day and never noticed him. About a mile down the road I had sped past him whilst he stood at the bus stop and my phone shot off the roof and landed at his feet. He'd taken a gamble at what time I headed home and saw me each day, tried to flag me down and when I passed him he'd chased after my car. He'd lost me three times when I rounded the corner of my road. He took a gamble on the first house and it happened to be mine.

I was completely taken aback and dont even remember saying thank you. I must have riden around for a week with a bottle of champange in my car before finally seeing him at the bus stop.
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 21:09, 2 replies)

Before I leave the house I consult a list of French saints days.
If the saint has a "G" in their name, and the day is an even number, I cut myself instead of the woman I plan to abduct.

I note that March 28th is the next lucky day for lone females trying to get home in the dark.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 18:17, 23 replies)

I saw the title and thought "I have a story for that!".
In my late teens, I remember reading a quote 'every man is guilty of the good deeds he doesn't do'. I don't know who said it, or why, or whether they were spiritual or secular. Either way, something about it resonated with me. I'm an atheist, the only person I expect to judge my life is me.(Or possibly a judge and a jury of my peers. I digress...)

Ever since then, I've taken every opportunity I can to do good deeds, whether for people I know or strangers, be it big or almost inconsequential.

But I won't share them. Because I also believe that good things should be done for their own sake, not for praise or reward.

So I'm afraid I haven't actually got a story this week.

(I did just get given a free snake by someone who was in the Human Centipede 2, though, which is both random and an act of kindness, though!)
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 18:03, Reply)

Just today
I kindly reminded a man that he was supposed to pay for the pushchair he was attempting to leave my shop with.

He didn't seem too pleased about it though.
(floorcat pretending to be normal., Wed 15 Feb 2012, 17:57, 3 replies)

I help people to fit in better
By pointing out their faults.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 15:36, 5 replies)

I was on holiday in Scotland.
I was just about to go swimming when a plesiosaur poked its head out of the water, said "Harold Wilson is the whole box of fruit, not just the long-necked ones", and disappeared. That was a random act of Ness-kind.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 14:14, 6 replies)

The age of chivalry is not dead
Making a train journey a few winters ago from Cardiff - Chester the train terminated at Craven Arms due to a gas leak. As we were the first train affected we had to wait some time before any replacement coaches appeared.
To my complete surprise I got talking to a young lady. It was a chilly evening and she was not dressed for the conditions. I detected a shiver so I offered her my coat at which point she backed away.
(jvz, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 11:15, 7 replies)

I got stalked by "Three NIpples"
Back before the days of dinosaurs... when I was at school... there was a girl who had 3 nipples. I don't know why or how I knew this - maybe it was just a made up rumour... but anyway, she was known for it. She had no friends to speak of really. I used to say a very fast hello if I saw her out and about but that was it - I was a shy girl myself back in the day.
Anyway - my Mum decided to give a load of my old clothes to this girl as she knew her mother.
This girl then followd me round school wearing my clothes and declaring to everyone that would listen that I was her best friend. I was distraught!
With hindsight it wqas my Mum being kind, and I was being a freaked out bitch - but I was really scared!
Thanks Mum - for nowt!
(canarynightlife "Some weasel nicked the cork from my lunch! ", Wed 15 Feb 2012, 10:46, 3 replies)

Just last night in fact
I was rather inebriated. I am currently going through my most recent attempt to quit the cigarettes, however drunkenness demanded I have one. I couldn't see anyone around to bum one off, so wandered into the nearest liquor store to buy a pack and a lighter. The terrible realisation however dawned on me that I would have an entire pack, which I was bound to smoke over the next few hours and day or two, and then I would be addicted once again. So I did what I thought would be an awesome random act of kindness.

I opened the packet, removed a cigarette, and then just before taking the ciggie and lighter out of the store with me I handed back the pack of (now 19) fags, and said to the cashier 'Please give this packet to the next person who comes in here wanting to buy cigarettes'.
'Your friend had better hurry up' she said, 'I close in 5 minutes'. 'It's not going to be a friend of mine', I replied, 'just give the pack to the next person that asks for Marlboro Lights', and then strolled out of the shop.

In my mind, I was the mysterious stranger who paid it forward.
In reality, I was the drunken fucking fool who just paid $20 for one cigarette.
(Jboy, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 10:19, 5 replies)

This is why I can't have nice things.
Sometimes my cash cushion is large enough to enjoy some personal luxuries, which means it's a good time to pick up a surprise gift for somebody else. All my relatives and friends know I couldn't care less about birth dates, anniversaries or scheduled gift giving seasons, as I find a random gift to be a much more sincere way of saying, "thinking of you."

While my aging BOF station wagon isn't the flashiest ride on the road, its ability to make long highway miles disappear is nonpareil. It's also an easy excuse to give passing hitchhikers and their cargo a lift along my route. Keep an eye out for the aging Buick with peeling woodgrain Scotchcal for your savior in the western states. If I'm taking my time on a longer trip, a detour to a specific destination is not out of the question.

I've owned this house for 5 years. I have been its sole occupant for less than 1 of them. It's too easy to turn the guest rooms into a temporary residence when times get tough for the occasional friend ("Limon? Oh hell no, you're not going to make a 2 hour commute just to attend interviews; put your stuff in this closet and use the hide-a-bed."). It can be crowded at times, but it's preferable to seeking shelter in the copse by the rail lines. About three quarters of my temporary residents end up finding stable employment and a place of their own shortly after they leave, which I figure is a decent success rate.

While I have always considered allowing a few single or double item customers ahead of my full cart at the cash register queue to be basic decent behavior, from what I've read here it is a special aberration. I'm also one of those oddball types who keeps up on where the soup kitchens and shelters are active, the better to help random wanderers find a place to bed down for the night.
( Felis Concolor, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 10:11, 6 replies)

As a random act of kindness, I give you
random facts of Skegness
(roysin, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 9:32, 3 replies)

Every day
I try to help a stranger every day. Lost tourists, harried mums, people with too many bags trying to get up long flights of stairs, there's always somebody who needs some help. Keep doing it even if nobody ever helps you.
(junglejim, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 8:59, 5 replies)

If you must drive a crappy car, always break down on council estates.
Back when I could only afford to drive horrendous death-traps I'd sometimes find myself grinding to an unexpected halt.

Working-class men always stopped to help me. They'd get the banger going again with Radweld, improvised fan belts, bump starts or whatever and laughingly brush aside my tearful thanks.

If I broke down on a council estate I've even been given cups of tea while I waited!

These days, in my reliable Clio, I always stop to ask if I can help other stranded drivers. S'only fair to pay it back.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 8:02, 5 replies)

Despite leading a very interesting life.
Last year I spent my free time in Manchester as an 'enabler' for people to be recipient of Mary jane. Y'know, The not-so-legal yet not readily enforced herb.

I was a drug dealer. For a bit the entire halls I lived in. This is the short story of how I became this role and how I'm forever indebted to a certain person.

When I first moved in I met a girl, S, who lived in the flat above me, she was also the first drug user/dealer I ever met aside from my dad. We became good friends, probably because I didn't buy anything off her, having despised the wretched herb for making my dad into someone I dislike very much. I said that if I knew anyone that needed any green I would tell her.
She also persuaded me one day to have my first toke, which promptly whitey'd me out, leaving me further wondering how the hell anyone could like it, and why the hell S seemed so fond of it.

Over the course of a term I also met a guy who was heavily addicted to mephedrone who once introduced me to his dealers, who came round mine incidentally had no green and were looking for a decent source. I said I knew someone who did and not knowing it was customary to just give her number to them, gave me £20 for an eighth, I popped up to S and buying it off her, gave it to him. Even though I knew nothing about what makes quality green, they said it was some of the best they'd tried, and promptly gave me enough money for an ounce. Which I promptly gave S to give to them.
I'll spare you the details but somehow I became the 'go to' guy for my friends to buy weed off, it ballooned from there really, nobody was selling apart from S. I liked very much that I was meeting new people who wanted to be my friend. S liked me because through me she managed to get most of her customers. It became a point where I offered to do the deliveries for her after she got a new batch from her cousin, seeing as I am a fairly tall bloke, and she, well, lazy and a woman.
I started to get depressed because I realised that practically everyone I knew, just wanted me to provide them with weed, no-one was my bloody friend, they just came to me when it suited them.
But I'd found it, a nice way of making a bit of cash on the side, supplementing my student loan, me of all people! A dealer! How lucky was I?!?

This led me to 'experiment' with my stash, because after reading the substantial material online regarding it I thought I'd have a better experience. So I rolled one up, following advice on a video, and took a drag. Found the effects rather pleasant this time.
I then became my best customer.
My marks slipped, my lectures went by, slept through. My room rapidly turned into a tip. I turned into my dad. Started accepting offers of blazing up, usually free from the bag I'd just sold them. It was funny, just never fun. The guy I knew who was addicted to mcat, led me to try lots of drugs. Ketamine, mephedrone, ecstasy, speed. I liked the altered state these highs got you.

It all came to a head when I walked into one of my friends room, not having seen him for 3 weeks after selling him 1/2 oz. A wall of B/O, and small fruit flies hit me, there was a layer of fast food wrappers on the floor, heaving piles of rancid laundry that smelt like they had been washed in bong water, bottles of piss, mouldy beer and opened cola bottles filled with flies.

He lay there with his laptop in his lap, a nearby bucket which had been been disgraced from some previous night out where the need to speak welsh had overcome him. This was the weed doing this to him, even though I knew from earlier on in the year he was a lazy bastard, he was still a great guy to chill with before I got into selling. It was all my fault. He'd failed his course. He hadn't tried weed before coming to uni.

He asked me if I'd give him some as a gift, since he had no money left. So I gave him an eighth. Then randomly axed him to death to put him out of his misery from being in a pun. You could call it a random axe of kindness.

Length.
(Natrix, Wed 15 Feb 2012, 6:04, 5 replies)