Skip to main content

Random Acts Of Kindness

I love the stairwell of the place I go Everyday. Concrete walls painted an off-white. Just stone slab steps painted over and over. Any sound you make echoes.
The stairwell of the place I go Everyday is usually empty. There is an elevator in the building.
I walk up six flights of stairs in an almost-always empty stairwell.
Sometimes I am Rocky.
Sometimes I am Marilyn Monroe.
Once, I was Courney Love.
I pass by three large metal doors along my way up. There are offices behind these large metal doors; with reception areas and people waiting, people working.
When I am wearing my loudest shoes, sometimes I will stop on the landing, then do a happy little jig.
You never know who is on the other side of the door just waiting to smile.

Your Topic: Random Acts of Kindness when you are sharing the stairwell with another person.

Comments

The Writer said…
This morning I was at the bottom of the stairwell for our appartment building and already late for work. But this wonderfully adorable old woman was struggling with four bags of something (dog and cat food, I believe). So I carried them up thinking she was on the second floor. Turns out she's on the sixth. But hey, she thanked me and I got to meet Nauzer (her chihuahah thingy dog) and Nigel (her black puff-cat). So all good, right?
Queenie said…
Kudos to The Author.
She gets 1.
I have
2.Compliment their hair.
The Writer said…
Offer a "Hello"/"Good morning" and a smile. If you make them smile, isn't that worth a lot?
The Writer said…
Hug a friend when she says she doesn't need, when she's scared, when she's hurt, and you're both smiling.
Self Induced said…
Well, at school last year, I asked a couple people "Did we make out before?" on the stairs. I pretty much asked random people, and I asked another male too. Their reactions are priceless.

Well, they weren't really acts of kindness, but then again, I like to do things in public that will make others say to their friends, "guess what I saw yesterday!"
Queenie said…
I think that is A Random Act of Kindness.
Even if they were shocked, even the men, at least that got to walk away feeling sexy someone wanted to kiss them...
Hmmm.

Q
Phoesable said…
Leprechaun, I think that is arguably an act of kindness, making people take note of their lives. It's an act of kindness that keeps me coming back to your site, Q.

I know the topic is "when sharing the stairwell with another person," but one of the random acts of kindness I do for myself in a stairwell is to sing.
REMwastrel said…
4. Ask them if you've seen them on TV before. Aren't you that girl in that soap commercial? You look just like her! Presto, instant ego-boost.
In some cases you might have to lie through your teeth but since it's random, it won't have to happen too often.

5. If you're eating someting that comes in some kind of a bag (i.e. chips/candy), and you're only half-done with it, give it to your fellow stairwell-transverser. This will also prevent you from upping your calorie intake.
Self Induced said…
I don't really know if anyone would really interpret it as an act of kindness. If they take it as a compliment, they certainly don't show it. Remember, I'm saying "Have we made out before?", not "Want to make out?"
Queenie said…
Which probably makes them feel realy awesome to know one time while they were obviously drunk, at least they made out with someone as cute as you.
Face it.
You are a kind person.

Q
Jennifer said…
Today I held the door open for a sweet old man who had a hard time to walk at the bank, then I held the door open for a woman at bingo who could barely walk. Then I carried a lady's pop to a table for her because she had a cane in one hand and a purse in the other. I don't often get a chance to do these things for others. And never for three people who can barely walk! Then afterwards while I was playing bingo I suddenly remembered you!
Queenie said…
Jennifer! You are so nice. Thank you for stopping by.

Q
AJ in Nashville said…
6. Tell them they have a delightfully wonderful and creative writing style and that you absolutely love their blog.

And then, if their name isn't Queenie, try to explain what the hell a blog is.

:)

Popular posts from this blog

Unending Paper Chase

You check in on me when you get your break for lunchtime now. You never used to. You ask me, "Are you all right?" You breath in and out hard once through your nose, like it is a chore to even ask. It seems to me that for you everything is an obligation, even holding my hand. Everything you do doesn't feel like anything more than surveillance now. I don't want the days to end and it is getting harder to sleep at night. I am starting to feel sick, like I have the flu. I'm always cold. But I haven't eaten much lately. My stomach is filled with acid. I smile at you anyway. I write two letters a day. One to keep you smiling and one that tells of the truth, but they both look the same. You do not know that I form certain words and sentences in a way that triggers me, in a way that reminds me of what is real. It is something that I started doing in grade school for tests, so that I could easily remember the answers, and then later, so my mother would not underst...

Boxing Day

Countless times, on the weekends when you are here, you leave for me a stream of yellow in the bathtub. Something angled wrong in this 160 year old building. Sometimes you hit the tiles, as you whip your dick to the left to spray. Do you hold a finger over your pisshole? Do you laugh inside your head? I don't want to know. She bathes in there too.  I have been kind even letting you here. It is only because I love your father.    It is May or June, I don't remember. As sickness washes over me and the rest of the planet too, it can be easy to lose track of time. We tend to the plants, stroke their leaves and name them all. We watch the cat grow fatter, as she lolls in the sun on the stolen chair cushion she's dragged to the hard cement balcony floor. I feel like I know Gamer Chad better than myself and she complains about Jordan Peterson. She can't stand his voice.  But I am more tired and angry on weekends. I tell my her so. I tell her my solution. She tells me she...

Below One Eye

It's just a phase, the Moon says to her, when she tells him she can't sleep. Up again, at 6 a.m., tossing and turning through fitful dreams. The sort of dreams that say, You can still have this, if you want this. Weeks of them again now. They are not unpleasant, especially if she can wake herself up fast when she realises where she is. Before she sees his face. She has taken to arming herself with protection. She conjures up her older brother's face and he brings along his wife. They stand beside her and help wake her up. "But if you don't want to," her brother says, leaves the offer on the plate, "I can kill him instead." But I disagree. He doesn't want to die. And that's such a shame. It is the end of winter now. It holds on like the cat who doesn't want to be picked up. The hateful sort of cat; the kind who would spit at you instead of nuzzle. And that makes it hard. Not to want This. She has said nothing to him, that she hasn't...