No Good Deed

Come on now, you know what I’m talking about.
Your Mama and Daddy said it.
Your Grandma probably cross-stitched it on a pillow.
And they were right.

You’d think I’d know better by now. Nope. Like a moth with a death wish flying up to a porch light, I can’t resist helping folks who practically scream, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

They say things like, “I don’t know where to start” or “Who do I call?”
And I immediately jump in with, “I got a guy.”

And there it is. That’s the moment I start skipping down the twisted path of good intentions toward the fiery gates of regret.

At first, it all seems fine. My guy shows up, does the job, leaves it looking slicker than a greased pig on a slip and slide.

Then… punishment arrives:

· “It cost too much.” (You approved the price.)
· “The color’s all wrong.” (You picked it.)
· “It took too long.” (It was completed early, Pam.)
· “They used my toilet.” (Oh, dear God—call the CDC.)

And just like that, I’m not a helpful friend. I’m an accomplice to disaster.

Welcome to Punishmentville. Population: me.

Listen. I wear a lot of hats. Realtor. Fixer. Counselor. Part-time hostage negotiator.
Kids call it being a gig worker. I call it Tuesday.

I love what I do, and most of the time, my good deeds actually do work out. People are grateful. They smile. They high-five me. They bring me banana bread.

I am now their go-to person and that is my reward. I helped and helping others is a good thing. Right?

But then… there’s that one.
You know the one.

It’s not the work that’s been done. It’s them.

And I promise you, pal, it wouldn’t matter if the job was 100% perfect and they got it for free. They’d still drag you into their pit of doom, gloom, and complaint.

So, there we are then. Go forth. Do good. Be kind.

But remember:

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED.

The Condition—sometimes you get banana bread, sometimes you get burned.
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