A hurricane is coming in, and there is a mandatory evacuation happening on a thin stretch of a vulnerable coastal town. I am directing traffic coming out of the area when, suddenly, a woman driving an SUV comes up, trying to get back in.

It is already very windy, and the rain is coming down heavily, so I shout at her to make myself heard even standing close to her window.

Me: “Turn around, ma’am! This is a mandatory evacuation!”

Driver: “What’s going on?! I’m trying to get home!”

Me: “Do you live in [Town Up Ahead]?”

Driver: “Yes! Now let me through!”

Me: “Ma’am, no one is allowed this way due to a mandatory evacuation. Do you have anyone at home waiting for you?”

Driver: “No, but I have someone coming to repair my dishwasher!”

Me: “I don’t think they’ll be keeping that appointment, ma’am.”

Driver: “No! I made an appointment last week, and they will be honoring it! I told them I would complain if they didn’t!”

Me: “I can totally see that, ma’am.”

Driver: “What is that supposed to mean?”

Me: “It means you’re going to have to make that complaint because no one is going this way until the storm passes.” 

Driver: *Shouting over the raging winds and rains* “What storm?”

My six-year-old loves when I make clothes for him, so I take him to the fabric store and let him pick out some fabrics. We end up with five bolts in the cart’s basket alongside him, and he’s giggling as he clutches onto the bolts and tells me what he wants me to make, namely button-down shirts.

I have a set budget for crafting and sewing supplies, so I inform my son he’ll have to pick three of the five fabrics or something different for me to make. He decides which fabrics to keep, and I put the other two back on the shelf. As I replace the last one, another customer approaches me.

Customer: “Where is the cotton canvas fabric?”

Me: *Pointing* “In the far right corner of the store, against the wall. It’s on sale for 30% off right now.”

Customer: “Thank you.”

At this point, the other customer turns to walk away but notices my son, who has been staring at him the whole time.

Son: *To me* “Why did he ask you where the fabric was?”

Me: “He thinks I work here.”

Customer: *Red-faced* “Yes, I did think you worked here because you’re putting away fabric.”

Son: “Mama put it back because I didn’t want it. You put things back where they belong if you don’t want them!”

Customer: *Muttering as he walks away* “Thanks again.”

For the record, I only knew where the cotton canvas was located because I had recently purchased some to make my son a coat.

I currently work at a popular breakfast joint that is known for its waffles, among other things. Weekends are especially hectic here, and staff is doubled on Saturday and Sunday.

Most of the time, customers don’t know — or maybe don’t care — just how much it takes to keep everything running smoothly and how tired and hungry every staff member is when a rush lasts several hours.

One Saturday, I’m working a more hectic shift than usual. A couple I have waited on before comes in and sits in my section. They are always extremely pleasant and patient, as they notice just how busy I am with all of my tables on the weekends. I do my best to remain calm and friendly as I run around like a headless chicken making sure all of my customers are taken care of.

When this couple finishes, they ask how credit card tips are distributed. The server gets 100% of credit card receipts from their books. I explain this to them, and they walk up to the register. After finishing the transaction, I take the receipt to enter the tip and place it into its correct box.

As I look down, the couple says, “That is real.”

I haven’t had time to actually look, but when I do, I notice they’ve left me a $100 tip! I thank them profusely and then quickly shuffle out of customer view to shed a tear of joy, as that tip, while always being appreciated, made me sigh in relief knowing that my financial situation just improved greatly from what my husband and I discovered last night.

To everyone who has worked food service, or just understands the amount of work going into making your experience a pleasant one, thank you! Even a 20% tip goes a long way to help your server! A 200% tip might just make them cry, though!

Related:
Tipped To Be A Good Day, Part 2
Tipped To Be A Good Day

I’m the author of “Every Office Needs One“, in which my boss asked me to take care of a bug because I’m not bothered by “creepy crawlers”. The office building in both of these stories is odd for a variety of reasons, but the main one here is its location. We are stuck on the corner of a highway and a very busy street with a not-very-well-maintained empty lot/field to our other side and mostly swamp land behind us. This combination means that we find a LOT of small critters inside despite having a set schedule with an extermination company. For the most part, we just find a wide variety of bugs along with plenty of geckos and lizards. We also get the occasional mouse or rat, but this is, thankfully, few and far between.

During our monthly building-wide meeting, several people bring up how they’ve been finding what they suspect to be rodent droppings and report scratching in the walls.

It’s important to note here that our particular location is comprised of about 80% women, almost all of whom come from middle-class backgrounds (our CEO included). This means that most of our office is fairly easy to gross out. It’s also important to know that I love reptiles and know a decent amount of information about their biology.

Coworker: “Are we sure the droppings aren’t from the geckos? We’ve been getting a lot of them inside because of all the rain. I think I’ve seen [My Name] catch four of them this week alone.”

Me: “It’s not from the geckos since there haven’t been white ‘dots’ in the droppings we’ve found. I don’t know enough about rodents to know for sure that’s what they’re from, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it is rats or something.”

CEO: “How do you know geckos have a white… dot in their droppings?”

I pause, trying to figure out how to explain this.

Me: “Are you really sure you want any sort of explanation on how a reptile passes food? Because I can give you one if you want.”

Her eyes go wide as she digests that statement — pun intended.

CEO: “…You know what, [My Name]? I think I’m just going to trust you on this one.”

Several of my other coworkers quickly agree with her, while our health and safety officer — who came from an even more wild Cajun upbringing than I did — tries his best to hide his laughter at the exchange. 

CEO: “I’m just going to call [Extermination Company] and have them come out to look around.”

It was not, in fact, the geckos. We had the beginning stages of a rat infestation.

Related:
Every Office Needs One

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Cruelty

The uncle in this story is my step-uncle, my grandmother is his stepmother, and the house he evacuated to is his mother’s (my step-grandfather’s ex-wife). This uncle is also a deadbeat with severe alcohol, gambling, and mental health problems he refuses to get or accept help for.

As previously mentioned, my uncle evacuated to his mother’s house just recently because of Hurricane Ida. However, for reasons unknown to all of us, he didn’t bring his two dogs with him despite his mother not having any issues with them coming along. Because of this, they ended up being left alone in a hot trailer for several days that had been half destroyed by the storm without any food or water.

When my grandmother found out about this, she was livid. She and my step-grandfather essentially forced my cousin — one of my uncle’s adult children — to drive out there, pick up the dogs, and give them up to the first animal shelter he could find with working facilities. Apparently, the poor things were extremely dehydrated and hungry. They were also filthy and ridden with fleas and ticks, but we strongly suspect they already had these issues prior to the hurricane.

As soon as my grandparents got water and power back to their place, my grandmother drove out and adopted both of the pups. Apparently, my uncle has since been begging her to return them to him, but she refuses to do so after what he put them through. Both she and my step-grandfather have even gone so far as to threaten him with getting the police involved should he try to take them. These are all decisions that everyone in our immediate family — barring my uncle, of course — wholeheartedly supports.