I work at a resort restaurant that serves food to a neighboring poolside bar. Every summer, when the bar opens, I’m scheduled to work as a cocktail server, taking and running orders to customers. Yesterday was my first big day back as a server, and I was excited.

This weekend, the resort is hosting a big golf tournament and a large wedding, so the pool is LOADED with people. Imagine a sea of human heads bobbing up and down rather than water, and you can basically imagine what our crowd is like. And these people are THIRSTY. They want alcohol, and luckily for them, I am there to make their dreams come true.

The shift is absolute chaos. People are demanding drinks every five minutes, and it is difficult to keep up, especially with the Texas heat boiling everything in sight.

Halfway through, I come up to a group of gentlemen who are part of the golf tournament. I’m taking a few orders from them when one of their friends, who I’ll just call Jeff, cuts in.

Jeff: “I’m going to get my credit card. You can just charge all of our drinks onto that card.”

Me: “Okay.”

As he’s exiting the cool, sunscreen-tainted waters of the pool to get his card, I talk to his friends and finish their orders.

A minute later, I hear a loud, piercing whistle echo right above and behind me. Then, I hear a bellowing:

Jeff: “HEY!”

One by one, heads in the pool start to turn. Their eyes show expressions of either confusion or curiosity as the source of the whistle, our dear friend Jeff, holds his credit card in the air.

Jeff: “EVERYONE GETS ONE ON ME! ONE! DRINK!”

There’s a millisecond of silence before the crowded pool erupts into cheers, victorious whistling, and chanting as Jeff stands there, victorious.

You know those scenes in movies where a guy says, “Drinks are on me?” Well, to be honest, I never once thought I’d be in the middle of such a scenario. I feel like I’ve stumbled into a crowded concert, not a pool. My poor, introverted little heart is freaking out while my mind is trying to figure out what the heck is going on.

As I stand up, Jeff proudly hands me his card, which I take with a fearful and uncertain gaze I keep hidden behind my sunglasses. I retreat to the bar, where my bewildered and unaware coworkers and customers stand questioning what happened. I’m holding Jeff’s card, asking what to do, and I’m told to basically do it.

So, that’s what I do.

I go around the pool, taking orders as normal and keeping the card with me. I stop by one guy, Gary, who I recognize as one of the men in the group.

Me: “Why is Jeff doing this? Is it really okay?”

I honestly think maybe he is drunk, and this was a decision made solely on that, and I am worried about charging a poor drunk man for hundreds of dollars of drinks.

Gary: *Chuckling* “He’s definitely serious. It’s a special occasion.”

Remember how I said these guys were from a golf tournament? Well, Jeff apparently participated and got a Hole-In-One on one of the courses. If you’ve never played golf or even know anything about it, this is INSANELY lucky and rare. The odds depend on the kind of hole you’re playing on, as well as many other conditions, but the average golfer basically has a 12,500-in-one chance of getting one. The stars would LITERALLY have to align for a golfer to get a Hole-In-One. I was honestly kind of shocked to learn this.

Me: “I didn’t even think that was possible outside of mini-golf.”

Gary: *Smiling* “Well, why do you think he’s celebrating it?”

I understand immediately, smile, and get to work.

What was originally chaos becomes APOCALYPTIC. My coworker and I are constantly flagged down for drinks, even while we are delivering others. We have so many orders for piña coladas that we burn through almost four gallons of mix, as well as two bottles of rum. One of our bosses actually sends out a server from the inside to help, and the look on his face when he sees the crowd is honestly kind of hilarious.

We take almost an hour to take everyone’s orders, make them, and deliver them. People are actually pretty patient and find our rushing around to be entertaining.

One couple even tips me a $100 bill in secret because I am going back and forth so often without complaining at all, which they found impressive. They even leave a 110% tip on their check as thanks for the service. I make sure to give them the best hugs a stranger can give another stranger.

In the end, Jeff’s bill is somewhere around $760, which includes a 20% tip we added. I half-expect Jeff to be upset in some capacity, but he is actually an awesome guy. He takes his massive bill, looks at the total, and just says:

Jeff: “Huh. I expected it to be bigger!”

He laughed, signed, and thanked me for the service. He even patted me on the back before he and his group left for the day.

Despite how terrified I was at first, the whole experience was really fun. It helped how many people were understanding about it and even patient with us. We’re still struggling with understaffing, despite being so far away from the global health crisis, and yet, we’re working our butts off to make sure service is nearly perfect for our guests. It’s hard, but when people are appreciative and reward us for our hard work, it really helps us.

To Jeff, congrats on that Hole-In-One. You deserved it! I hope you remember that moment for the rest of your life and never, EVER forget it. And to the rest of you, whether you work in service or not, remember to tip your servers and always keep in mind that a lot of us care about you, not just as customers, but people with needs, too.

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.