One Good Deed Deserves A Kick In The Pants 

August 28, 2019 Off By Brandie Morgan

Have you at any point had the inclination that any great deed you attempt is checked by a decent quick kick in the jeans? 

I as of late got a speedy lunch at a nearby café. I don’t care for eating at drive-through joints, be that as it may, infrequently, I don’t have much decision. At that point, once in the eatery the menu doesn’t give me much decision, either. 

People watcher

I requested my lunch and settled at a corner table. Part of the way through my lunch a more established couple took the table beside me. Being a “people watcher,” which is an extravagant method for saying, “I’m intrusive,” I watched this couple out of the side of my eye. 

I saw immediately the lady got her things arranged right away. Not so with the man. 

He attempted to unwrap the plastic fork. He bobbled attempting to break the plastic wrapping and free his fork so he could start eating. Nothing he did appeared to propel his motivation. 

Without overlooking anything, his better half came to over, took the wrapped fork from her significant other, popped it open in one simple movement and gave it back to him. Without saying a word, he took it and started eating. 

This episode helped me to remember something that happened the prior week. 

Moving from Florida to Virginia

A companion called, inquiring as to whether I could help a companion of his who was moving from Florida to Virginia and had no one to support him. Quickly I consented to help everything I could. Subsequent to hanging up my telephone, I pondered what I had gotten myself into. 

I guided him to have this individual call me. I assumed if he doesn’t call, I wouldn’t need to help. No sooner had this idea drifted through the little dark cells, at that point the phone rang. It was this individual mentioning my help. 


At chapel

I welcomed him to chapel on Sunday and we would perceive how we could support him. I trusted the “we” didn’t signify “me.” After hanging up the phone, I told my better half the occurrence and she reassuringly stated, “He may not come to chapel.” I breathed easy because of her proposal. 

On Sunday morning, an hour prior to administrations, this individual appeared at chapel. He presented himself and we acclimated. 

“All I have,” he guaranteed me, “are 25 boxes of books that I have to take to the mail station so I can mail them to where I am going.” 

All things considered, I pondered, this may not be as terrible as I suspected. 

On arousing Monday morning, misgivings about the entire venture assaulted my vacant head. I was attempting to think about some approach to thoughtfully retire from the entire chaos. 

I have an issue articulating “no.” You have no clue the inconvenience this has brought me. I’m considering counseling a language instructor to support me. 

I was running somewhat late

My watch revealed to me I was running somewhat late. I wish my watch would disclose to me how to escape such binds. In any case, when I asked, it didn’t give a tick. At that point a thought burst in my noggin. In the event that he said anything regarding me being late I will get frantic, pivot and return home. Or on the other hand, on the off chance that he wasn’t prepared to move the crates when I arrived, I would, seeming a bit piqued, pivot and step off and return home. 

It’s been so long since I got frantic or furious that I wasn’t certain of my arrangement. Be that as it may, I contemplated to myself, it merits an attempt. 

I ended up running around 45 minutes late. I was smiling to myself, figuring this would be sufficient to make him say something regarding my lateness. 

When I arrived, he was hanging tight for me with everything in preparation. He welcomed me in a bright voice and made no notice at about my delay. 

This troubled me. 

Looking over the work before us, I figured it would just a couple of hours to stack the truck, drive to the post office, which was just several streets away. 

I had the promising activity of lifting each case from the truck up on to the dolly on the dock, a few feet over my head. Confounding things significantly more, the mail station work force administering the emptying of these crates was a lady. This implied I couldn’t moan nor gripe about the strain of lifting boxes a few feet over my head. I get it must take care of business thing. 

I was pondering while at the same time working, exactly why he requested assistance. Extremely, this was not a two-man work. He could have done this pleasantly independent from anyone else. 

At that point the genuine reason sneaked out from under an adjacent shake where it had been stowing away. 

“The school where I will educate,” he started, “will repay me for every one of my costs in moving. Be that as it may… ” I was currently prepared for the remainder of the story. “Be that as it may, I am somewhat short on money and was thinking about whether you could support me? I’ll be happy to send the cash back to you.” 

At that point I got frantic. 

I thought he needed a hand up when in actuality he needed a hand out.