(I am a caucasian female working as a concierge in a hotel in Chicago, but I grew up in Korea. This particular group of guests has been causing havoc their entire stay, stealing items and bothering other patrons in the halls. One night, the television in the lounge has been smashed, so my boss calls the police on them. They are sitting on the sofa while the officer is trying to get their details. Before every answer, the guests converse amongst themselves in Korean.)

Officer: “Where are you boys from?”

Guest #1: *in Korean* “Tell him we’re from Japan!”

Guest #2: “Uh, Japan. Yeah.”

Me: *in perfect Korean* “You guys better tell him the truth. He’s going to find out anyway.”

(They are in shock. But before they sputter out an excuse, the policeman says…)

Officer: *in perfect Korean* “That’s okay. We’ll get it from their passports.”

(And that was how I met my now fiancé. The guests, by the way, spent the rest of the night at HIS workplace instead of mine.)