I was working the door at a hockey game once. They usually had local celebrities or public figures come and drop the first puck. One of the local newscasters came in.

Newscaster: “I’m here to drop the first puck.”

The team hadn’t notified the doors yet. She figured since she was a newscaster, we’d recognize her and let her in. The game was about to start and they did really need someone there to drop the puck, so there was no time for verification.

Well, the problem was that none of us watched the local news. Then, all of a sudden, I recognized her; I had gone to school with her sister.

Me: “I know you! You’re [Former Schoolmate]’s sister! Sure, go on in.”

And I told her where to go.

She came back ten minutes later. She really had been there just to drop the puck, which I knew was the case once I recognized her. She was actually very sweet and understanding through the entire thing. I could tell, though, that it did set her back half a step because I knew who she was because of her sibling and not her career.

I work in concessions for college sports. Today is one of the biggest football games of the year against the college’s biggest rival, so we are absolutely slammed. Officially, I’m a runner for the night, but the runner for the register next to mine has to make a quick bathroom trip, so in the meantime, I’m getting food and bottled drinks for his register, listening to customers for orders since the cashiers are terrible at calling them back and don’t like leaving the registers, trying to restock dwindling supplies, and pouring cups of hot cocoa and coffee.

I’m a little overwhelmed.

I’m in the middle of filling a hot cocoa when I hear this order at the nearest register.

Customer: “Just a [candy], please.”

The candy rack is within reach, so I grab his candy. However, I have my finger on the button to pour the hot cocoa and don’t want to leave it, since it’s our biggest item of the night, and every second counts.

Me: “[CANDY] INCOMING!”

I chuck it through the air, and it slides perfectly halfway across the counter. The cashier blinks like she’s not sure what just happened, but she’s already rung the order through so there’s not much she can do.

Customer: “Woah. You guys are dedicated!”

I would’ve said something in return, but I already had two more orders to fill!

During college, I work in a concessions stand. I am alone in the stand, working a very slow game. We have a standard coffeemaker, but since I’ve never drunk coffee, I have no idea how to use it. There’s not much left in the pot when I get there.

Customer: “I’ll have a cup of coffee, please.”

Me: “It’ll be from the bottom of the pot. Are you feeling brave?”

I had this conversation several times with several different customers. Every single one of them laughed and ordered something else. I ended up not selling that bottom-of-the-pot coffee; when my coworker came along, she dumped it and showed me how to brew a fresh pot.

Just out of college, I took a job teaching high school and served as assistant wrestling coach for a couple of years. For some reason, we got more than our share of students with “questionable” decision-making skills.

We were hosting a tri-match. For those unfamiliar, three teams compete in three sessions to produce three separate team results. In the first match, the wrestler from Team 1 competes against his counterpart from Team 2, in the next, it’s 1 versus 3, then 2 versus 3, and then it repeats. The second round starts off with 1 versus 3, then 2 versus 3, then 1 versus 2, etc., until everyone has wrestled twice. Obviously, some wrestlers compete in consecutive rounds while some get the middle round off.

We were about to start the second round when we noticed that the boy scheduled for the third match, who had already had a tough bout in round one, wasn’t present. I found him in the locker room, just finishing wolfing down a sub sandwich. This was not one of the ones you get from a well-known national sandwich chain; rather this was from a local shop that made large, heavy, greasy products. When I yelled at him, he responded:

Boy: “But Coach, I was hungry!”

I dragged him back to the gym and let the coach know what was up. He just shook his head and told the gourmand to get ready. I didn’t think anything of it when he went over to the other coach and spoke briefly.

Two matches later, it was time for our hero to take the mat. Having already competed for six hard minutes, with insufficient warmup, a stomach full of heavy food, and a REALLY strong opponent, the inevitable happened. Forty-eight seconds into the second period, the sandwich made its technicolor reappearance. It was obvious he had barely masticated it as we could identify individual components.

During the break for cleaning the mat (and forfeiting the match), the coach turned to the squad and pointed out that one should not eat right before wrestling. Fifteen minutes later, the meet continued.

After everything was wrapped up and the coach and I were walking out, I asked him if he’d told the other team’s coach about our wrestler’s condition.

Coach: *Smiling* “That would be unethical.”

My husband is in a recreation soccer league with other adults, ranging in ages from twenty to forty. Obviously, it’s a competitive league, but not even close to pro, as the term “recreation” would suggest. One day, I decide to go watch his game.

About fifteen minutes into the game, I watch [Teammate] get tackled pretty brutally by a member of the opposing team. However, it quickly becomes evident that this is not JUST a brutal tackle. [Teammate #1] goes down HARD and yells in agony. A crowd immediately gathers, and the next few moments are a blur of his teammates trying to clear out the crowd and running back and forth between [Teammate] and the sideline, carrying various things over to him.

After a while, my husband comes over.

Husband: “That was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. He was tackled so hard in the calf that his tibia was sticking out of his leg!”

Thankfully, [Teammate] had incredible help, as there was a nurse and a paramedic on the team, and I saw the two of them bent over [Teammate] until the ambulance arrived, and it drove right onto the field.

Here’s the worst part, though. The referee was struggling to keep up with the play, so he did not call a foul, because he did not see it. Yes, even though there was a guy on the field with his leg split open and a bone sticking out. I heard the guy may have had a hearing with the league, but no one is sure anything came out of it, because, again, the ref technically did not see the incident.

If this wasn’t all bad enough… the guy did not apologize! He stood around the group of players surrounding [Teammate] and kept making awkward comments, like, “Yeah, we were just kind of going for the ball at the same time, and his leg kind of hit mine here.” He was not apologetic whatsoever.

[Teammate] was in the hospital for almost a week, after obviously having surgery and being closely monitored for signs of infection. I hope he’ll be well enough to play next season!