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Every week when I position myself in the corner of the couch in front of the bird feeders to write a new story, I typically dig deep, review my week, my experiences, my thoughts, and my contacts until I come up with some type of original idea. This week, however, was very different because the story fell into my lap last Friday evening.

We had invited five people to our house for a casual dinner. One was a couple with whom we had been friends for twenty-two years. The other couple have been close friends since the 1970s and had worked with and known that first couple since around 2001. The final guest was someone who neither couple had known or met until that day, a business acquaintance of mine from Boston.

Because our oldest grandson was running in a cross-country race at Saint Vincent College in Latrobe, and two of our granddaughters were in a soccer match locally, to free up his parents we invited our youngest grandchild, Pete, to stay with us.

Because we had company coming, the caveat was that he had to be on his very best behavior. Once he agreed to those draconian terms, his mother dropped him off all fed and ready for watching television and playing on his iPad. He, however, had a very different idea of how the night should go.

You see, he had emptied his electronic Brinks truck-style piggy bank at the St. Michaels festival the week before, and he had his eyes on a new electronic game that he did not want to bother his parents, relatives (his birthday is coming up) or Santa for Christmas. With that in mind, he ran up to his Yia-Yia, and asked her for a towel. With a puzzled brow, she asked him why to which he replied, “I’m going to be the waiter tonight.” It didn’t take long to figure out he was hoping for tips, but she went along with him and hoped for the best.

What occurred from that point on was almost indescribable. He carefully placed that dish towel over his left arm, welcomed each guest as they arrived, and then he took their drink orders on a little post-it note pad. It read like the following: “3 waters and 1 wite wine.” (Okay, his spelling wasn’t perfect.) Then he directed them to our back patio where they were seated with pre-dinner snacks. He unobtrusively asked them on a regular basis if they needed anything.

Later he seated them at the dining room table, and with the help of his grandmother, he announced then delivered each course with an Italian accent. “Risotto Milanese, chicken piccata, fagiole verdi, pane” until we got to the peach galette with vanilla ice cream. He also carefully assisted when their glasses needed refilled, then he helped clear, rinse and place dishes in the dish washer.

To say that he blew our minds was an understatement. No one ever believed he would or could have been so responsible, so mature and so attentive. Truthfully, he was much better than most of the adult wait staffs we’ve dealt with in major urban areas since COVID.

Pete clearly made his mark. One of the couples asked if he worked private parties, and the Boston guest asked him if he wanted full-time employment. He was not only a hit, but he was also a successful entrepreneur as our guests snuck tips to him for his electronic piggy bank.

I’m sure the fact that most of those in attendance did manage to knock off a few bottles of red and white wine didn’t hurt his financial journey, but as he unwound for the night on his iPad, the glow on his face was certainly discernible. He ended up at least a third of the way to Game Boy goal. Oh, what a night.

Nick Jacobs of Windber is a senior partner with Senior Management Resources and author of the book “You Hold Em. I’ll Bite Em.”