(I live in New Mexico, a state now made famous for ‘Breaking Bad.’ I receive a lot of calls from tourists wanting to see the places where ‘Breaking Bad’ was filmed.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [business name]. My name is [name]; how can I help you?”

Tourist: “Yes, I’d like to find out where Walter White lives.”

Me: “Uh, who?”

Tourist: “Gosh are all you people here stupid? Walter White, the guy who sells meth!”

Me: “Oh, that Walter White. Well, sir, I don’t think you know this but, that’s actually just a TV show. He doesn’t live here.”

Tourist: “NO, YOU’RE LYING! I HEARD FROM A FRIEND THAT IF I COULD MEET HIM, I COULD GET SOME GOOD METH!”

Me: “Okay, sir, well I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. Have a nice day.”

(I hang up, but the tourist calls back within 10 seconds.)

Tourist: “You can’t lie to me; I know you know where he lives! I know you want the good stuff all for yourself.”

Me: “Sir, it’s a TV show; it’s not real. I’m sorry; I don’t know where you can find any drugs, but if you have a problem I can get you a phone number of a company that can help you out.”

Tourist: “NO! I JUST WANT WALTER WHITE’S NUMBER OR ADDRESS! I WANT TO MEET AND TALK WITH HIM!”

Me: “Sir, he’s not real!”

Tourist: “WELL, WHERE DO YOU WORK?! BECAUSE IF HE’S NOT REAL, THEN YOU’RE NOT REAL! AND IF YOU’RE NOT REAL, THEN I GUESS NOTHING IS REAL IN THIS STATE!”

(I go ahead and get my manager and ask him what I should do.)

Tourist: “IS ANYBODY STILL THERE!? WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET SERVICE HERE?!”

Manager: “Sorry about that, sir; I can help you. Sir, you have proven to me that you deserve to come in contact with Mr. White. Here’s his phone number and address.”

(My manager gives the tourist the police precinct phone number and address.)

Manager: “Drive here, and wait outside before giving him a call. Make sure to give him a detailed description of what you want, and what you are driving and wearing.”

Me: “Good afternoon, [Online Ticket Website].”

Customer: “Your website is the worst.”

Me: “I’m sorry you feel that way, ma’am. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I want help.”

Me: “Clearly. Would you like me to help you purchase tickets to a specific show?”

Customer: “Yes. I guess.”

Me: “What play?”

Customer: “Belleville.”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am. The entire run of Belleville is sold out.”

Customer: “No, it isn’t.”

Me: “Yes. It is.”

Customer: “Says who?”

Me: “Says me.”

Customer: “I WANT THOSE TICKETS! I WANT THEM NOW!”

Me: “Ma’am, there’s nothing I can do. The play is sold out, and I would suggest that you calm down as tickets to an off-Broadway play aren’t nearly as important as things like a roof over one’s head or food on one’s table.”

Customer: “MAYBE FOR YOU!” *click*

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(We get a lot of kids at the library where I work. One of our regular customers, who’s about eight years old, walks up to me.)

Customer: “[My name], I have an important question.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Are werewolves real?”

Me: “Nope, werewolves are made up.”

(He looks taken aback, like that wasn’t the response he was expecting.)

Customer: “What?! But, but wolves are real!”

Me: “Right. But wolves are wolves, and people are people.

Customer: “Huh?”

Me: “If you’re born a wolf, you’re a wolf for the rest of your life. If you’re born a person, you’ll stay a person. So since you were born a person, you’ll never turn into a wolf.”

(The customer thinks about this for a minute.)

Customer: “That doesn’t make any sense!”

(The customer walks away, slowly shaking his head.)

Tourist: “Oh, nice! This is a bona fide English castle!”

Me: “Actually, sir, it’s not. Wales is not part of England.”

Tourist: “What? Oh, come on! You both drive on the wrong side of the road; it’s the same! Your capital is London.”

Me: “Er, no, sir. It’s Cardiff.”

Tourist: “Well, but Wales is just a state of England, like Philadelphia in the States.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but England doesn’t have states; it has counties, and Wales is not one of them. We have our own counties. Moreover sir, Philadelphia is a city, not a state.”

Tourist: “Don’t embarrass yourself, kid. You don’t even know about England even though you’re English, so please don’t bring up America; leave it to us.”

Me: “No, sir, I’m not English. I’m Welsh; not quite the same. And Philadelphia is still not a state anyway.”

Tourist: “I’m American! I know what I’m talking about!”

(One of the tourists friends comes over.)

Tourist’s Friend: “I’m sorry for his behavior; you must think all ‘Yanks’ are ignorant.”

Me: “No, not at all. Most ‘Yanks’ that come here are actually very polite and knowledgeable, and they really like Wales.”

Tourist: “You mean England!”

A Welsh Of Knowledge

(A customer is paying for her order at the cash register.)

Manager: “Will that be debit or credit?”

Customer: “Debit.”

Manager: “Would you like to leave a tip?”

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU! If I wanted to leave a tip, I would have left it on the table. That is so rude of you to ask!”

Manager: “No, ma’am, that’s not what I mean. The computer is asking if you want to leave a tip.”

Customer: “Oh, so computers talk now, huh? Just like how the roof talks. And the floors, too. You’re just full of it!”