My friend Christine caters at a local club, and last week when helping her out at the Ladies Christmas Dinner she asked: “Janice, would you check that the tables are set up same as last year please?”

“Aye, no bother.”

I was happy to get started.

However, I soon noticed that all the tables had lit candles on them except one which had a glass globe full of LED lights.

“Why does that table have a different decoration from the rest?” I was curious.

“Well, last year, Betty leant across the table to pull a cracker and burnt her wrist on the candle decoration when the cuff of her blouse caught fire.”

Christine rolled her eyes.

“So, this year Betty requested that we didn’t put a candle anywhere near her.”

I couldn’t believe it. Surely, Betty wouldn’t be daft enough to do the same thing twice. But no. Every precaution was taken, and no candles were put on Betty’s table.

“Christine, where is the plastic Christmas confetti you usually scatter over the tables?”

“Ah well...” Christine shook her head.

“Last year one ended up in Jean’s turkey dinner and she choked on it.”

She continued. “So, we’re not taking any chances this year.”

Later in the evening, music was blaring, drinks were flowing, and it was time for Santa (AKA John) to draw the Christmas raffle.

“Yo ho ho, the first lucky ticket is blue ticket number 25.”

He added. “That’s a blue ticket with a white border.”

“Yep, that’s mine!” a high-pitched voice shrieked.

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But on checking, Santa confirmed: “Em, nope, sorry, your ticket is blue but not blue with a white border.”

Totally deflated, the would-be-winner flopped back in her seat until eventually the winner of the blue ticket with the white border showed herself.

“Next ticket is peach number 245.”

No one responded, so Santa blared the number out a few more times over the microphone.

“I’ve got a pink ticket 245.”

A voice from the back shouted.

“Em... em,” Santa was struggling to see which colour was which as the hall was dimly-lit and disco lights were flashing.

“Yep. I think it might be pink.” Santa concurred.

The fiasco continued as Santa continued to draw tickets from his sack whilst inebriated ladies yelled at him from every angle in the room.

One table in particular were getting quite worked up due to their lack of wins.

“Santa,” one roared.

“Are ye bloody colour-blind?”

Poor Santa continued to call out lucky numbers as the ladies yelled and accused him of all sorts.

“I spent £10 on raffles and I’ve won hee-haw,” moaned yet another.

Next minute, poor Santa was accused of rigging the raffle because Mrs Claus (AKA Moira) had won two prizes!

“Fix! Fix!” shouted one.

“You didn’t shoogle your sack enough,” yelled another.

And I did feel sorry for poor Santa.

That was until it was my turn!

You see, the following week I organised our office raffles, but even selling them wasn’t as easy as it might seem.

“£1 per strip or £5 for 6 strips.”

“Eh?”

It took some people a wee bit of time to do the maths.

“Just write your name along one strip, which you leave in the book.” I explained as slowly as I could. “And then tear off the other strip and keep it.”

“Eh?”

“Yep, so that’s £15 you’ve paid me, therefore you need to fill out 18 strips.”

“Eh?”

“18 raffle tickets for £15?”

“Argh…” Me and the other sellers were tearing our hair out.

Finally, the party night arrived, and the crowd eagerly gathered as we prepared to draw the long list of prizes.

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I was there to announce the prizes and Richard our finance director was there to draw the winning tickets from the giant tombola which Santa (AKA Martin) had specially made because, just like Santa (AKA John), he had been accused of not shoogling his sack enough and therefore the tickets must have been stuck together.

And, of course, Santa was there to present the prizes to the lucky winners.

A few prizes in and: “The winner is … Janice Bell.”

Lots of clapping and cheering.

“Well done, Janice. Well done.”

Half a dozen prizes later. “And the winner is Janice Bell.”

More clapping and cheering.

Now on to drawing the last, and best prizes, Richard spun the tombola round and round before dipping his hand in the small hole.

“The winner is Janice Bell.”

“Fix! Fix!”

Suddenly, for a few in the crowd there seemed to be a threshold for winning prizes. Two was deemed acceptable, as a few people had won two prizes …. but three?

“No way. That’s not fair.”

“Someone’s pockled the raffle,” A voice from the back shouted.

Now I reckoned Paul Daniels might have conjured up three tickets with the same name, but Richard?

So, if you’re asked to get involved in a raffle, think twice because Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All Men doesn’t always apply. Especially when raffle prizes are involved!