Our mall is having a special children’s event where they can play games and watch some shows (some children’s TV actors are on stage), and some extra people are providing entertainment, such as face painters and clowns.

I am working at the customer service desk. It’s my first day ever, and I’m a little nervous.

Manager: “You’ll be fine. You’ve studied the manual, so you can answer any question the customers have.”

My first customer approaches.

Customer: “Is that guy a real clown or just someone dressed as a clown?”

Me: “Uh…”

I used to work as an admin for a large company department. I was often tasked with planning events for the team and corporate dinners, especially when we were all sent to Vegas for conventions.

It was the last event I planned as an admin before I went full-time into project management. It was in Vegas like most of the events I planned for my teams. The last night we were there, I planned a big dinner at Il Forniao at New York New York. There were about forty of us including the regional manager (who was my boss) and another manager (who was also my boss). My mom was with me on this trip and came to dinner with us. Much food was eaten, and much booze was imbibed.

One of the PMs decided it would be great to order ouzo for everyone to take a shot of. So, about thirty shots arrived… when there were twenty people left. (Some of the guys had money burning a hole in their pockets and others were going to check out the strip clubs.) There were about eighteen of my team (including both bosses), my mom, and me. Neither my mom nor I drink. But tonight, my mom decided she wanted to try this strange clear liquid with a coffee bean in it. I warned her. On the count of three, everyone bolted the shot (except me, who knows better). My mom took a sip and coughed up a lung. Everyone laughed and handed her glasses of water.

Then, the desserts arrived. Forty desserts. Now ten people. My regional manager left with a few others, and my other boss took off with the rest. Now, it was my mom and me, forty desserts… and the check. Company protocol (like with most companies) dictated that the boss was supposed to sign for it. I was technically the lowest person on the totem pole. I did have the company Amex. My mom (who also isn’t a dessert person) asked them to pack up about ten of the desserts. She was actually a bit drunk. I signed the check and added a tip. (Hey, they did me a solid when I had to tell them to make a meal for a vegetarian and a vegan.)

As my mom and I were leaving, toting a bag full of packaged desserts, we were followed by a crazy happy group of waiters who couldn’t believe I overtipped.

Waiters: “Please, miss, any time, come back! We will be more than happy to serve you! Miss, come back and we will give you a free meal!”

I never got my free meal. My bosses got into huge trouble for letting their admin sign off on a $5,000 meal. And sending in an expense report about it.

My mom? After our meetings were over the next morning, I wandered back to the room to see if my mom wanted to head onto the Strip to check out stuff. She was sitting in bed, eating four desserts, and binge-watching “Charmed.”

Due to scheduling conflicts, one of my coworkers can’t make an “event”, so she asks another coworker if she can. This second coworker (we’ll call her Jane) asks me to go to this “event” with her. Because it’s during work hours (and I don’t have too much to do), and we get paid, I accept. 

It turns out that this “event” is decorating a house for a charity our company works with every year. It’s not too far from the office, we get coffee on the way, and what could be better than taking some (paid) time off to take some photos and be nice and helpful? 

This house has bins and bins full of ornaments, and we decide we’re going to help decorate the tree. One of the people living there helps us, and it’s incredibly fun. 

When we start deciding where to put the ornaments, I notice that the tree is listing a little to the side. Not to worry! I get Jane to hold it straight before wiggling my way underneath it to tighten the screws. Luckily, it’s a fake tree. One of the workers tells us that the base isn’t the right one; after all the years they’ve spent in that house, they’ve got kind of a franken-tree. This happens a couple of times, in fact: Jane holds the tree up, and I screw it back in. 

When the tree and its room are finally done (and absolutely beautiful, in our opinion), we decorate outside with garland and wreaths and take so many photos. 

We’re only there for a few hours, and our supervisor wants us back by early afternoon, so about ten minutes before we have to leave, Jane asks if there’s anything else we can do. We feel we haven’t done much, but they thank us profusely and tell us there are several options for corporate outings if we so desire. 

And then… we hear a crash from the other room. You’d better believe it: the tree has fallen over. 

Tree: on the floor. Ornaments: broken. Glass: everywhere. The fairly large angel that I placed on top has been thrown into another room, and one of her arms is misshapen. 

We grimly decide that this is what we’re gonna do for the next ten minutes: fix the tree. 

All six of us (Jane and me included) take charge. We grab brooms and dustpans for the floor, two of us work on getting the tree at least upright, with me on the bottom to move the base, and Jane carefully picks up the bigger bits of ornaments the tree covered.

We decide that because the tree was originally in the center of an alcove, let’s just… shove it into the corner so it can lean. We’ll put other stuff in the other corner. It’s fine. At least we got photos from BEFORE the tree fell over? 

We take a selfie outside, and Jane and I head back to the office, job somewhat well done? 

The house we went to was a halfway house for homeless women, one of two in the area. Jane and I actually had a fantastic time; we had great chats with the people living and working there, and I got to geek out with one of them over Pokémon! What could be better? 

It reminded us not to take anything for granted this holiday season, regardless of where we are.

I’m next in line at a concession stand at a somewhat popular event. This stand is located in a barn- or shed-type of building. Customers enter through the doors at either end of the building, the counter is along the back wall, there is a condiment stand, and there are a few picnic tables spread throughout the rest of the building.

The customer ahead of me has ordered a ton of food — multiple hotdogs and burgers, fries, drinks, and some candy. The cashier rings it all in and tells him the price while other people working in the concession stand start gathering his items and bringing them up to the counter.

Cashier: “That’ll be [price], please.”

Customer: “Card.”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry… We don’t take cards at this stand. Only the stand at [Main Building] takes cards.”

Customer: “That’s bogus! Everybody takes cards.”

Cashier: “We don’t. Do you have cash on you?”

Customer: “Are you really happy you made me waste all that time in line, and now my kids can’t eat lunch, all because you don’t have a sign or something saying you don’t accept cards?”

Cashier: “We have signs at the doors at both ends, signs on the walls along the lines, a sign on the menu board, and a sign on the register right here.”

Customer: “Well, then… Are you really going to let my kids go hungry?”

Cashier: “The concession stand in [Main Building] takes cards, or there is an ATM right over there. If you want to use the ATM, I’ll keep a note of your order so we can get it ready as soon as you get back.”

The customer grumbles a bit but does eventually leave the register, and I step up.

Me: *Sheepishly* “Well… I also didn’t read the signs, so I guess I won’t waste anyone’s time putting in an order yet!”

I earned a chuckle from the cashier and made my way to the main building to use that concession stand so I could pay by card.

At my workplace, we had a team-building exercise running over a few days with exercises, presentations, and other activities. At the end of the last session, we were all given a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope.

Organiser: “I want you to take something from this team building that you think you’ll find useful later and put it in the envelope.”

Everybody around me began scribbling on their pieces of paper, putting them in their envelopes, and sealing them. The organiser then collected all the envelopes in a box, and we left the room.

A couple of weeks later, we met again, and the organiser started handing out the envelopes to everybody.

Organiser: “I want you to open your envelopes and read aloud what you wrote.”

When he took out my envelope, he looked confused.

Organiser: “There’s something hard in the envelope.”

I took the envelope from him.

Me: “You told us to take something that we would find useful later. I took this.”

I pulled out the pen they had given us.