I am giving a tour of a medieval historical site to a group of tourists. A large Welsh flag is on display at the entrance, so it’s a good opportunity to explain the history.

Me: “Here we have the Welsh flag, which has the dragon, known as the Red Dragon of Cadwaladr.” 

I go on to explain its history and meaning, and one of the tourists asks a question.

Tourist: “So, when did dragons go extinct?”

Me: “Uh… Dragons aren’t real. They were used as symbols only, but they weren’t real animals.”

Tourist: “No… I saw a documentary. The last dragon died in like, old times. I just want to know when that was?”

Other Tourist: “Gary, that was Game Of Thrones.”

Tourist: “Yeah, and that was set in old, like, European times, right?” 

I swiftly moved on while Gary’s friend tried to explain…

I am a tour guide at a historical plantation in the American South. A significant part of the tour, aside from the old, preserved buildings, is the many huts and accommodations where enslaved people lived.

Most of the tour group is pleasant, taking in the history, but there is one older couple who keeps scoffing and sneering as soon as I mention anything to do with slavery.

Older Woman: “Oh, Lord, here we go again. Yes, yes, we get it; they had slaves. We just came here to see the nice houses.”

Me: “Ma’am, as I have mentioned, we here at [Historical Museum] have a responsibility to provide all the context of the history of the site. It would be remiss of us to talk about the beauty of the manor without also addressing how it was afforded and maintained.”

Older Man: “Ugh, we thought we’d be safe down here in Louisiana, but even all of y’all have gone woke.”

Me: “It’s ‘woke’ to talk about slavery?”

Older Man: “Slavery was hundreds of years ago!”

Me: “Just over 150 years ago, actually, and if that’s too old for you to consider relevant, then you would have to apply that same logic to the manor you were just admiring.”

Older Woman: “We didn’t come on this tour to be lectured and made to feel guilty about slavery!”

Me: “Then this isn’t the tour for you. Feel free to head to the ground’s exit at any time, but I will be continuing this tour as intended.”

They scoff and make disparaging sounds at that, but they still stick around for the tour.

When it is time to leave, I see them heading over to their vehicle, which proudly flies both the US and Confederate flags.

The older man sees me staring at the flags.

Older Man: “Now, this is real American history, son! None of that woke guilty BS!”

Me: “The confederacy lasted four years. Slavery lasted three hundred. I think I know which had a bigger impact on American history, sir.”

He looked like he wanted to storm up and punch me. (He could have; he looked a lot bigger and stronger than me, despite his age.) But he ended up just spitting on the ground near me and driving off.

The Yelp review was not kind, but it was hilarious.

I run tours around the area from a fancy resort in Jamaica. One of the tours is the exploration of a cave by the beach, which involves a little bit of swimming. I meet the tour group the night before at the resort and explain how it all works.

In the morning, I meet the tour group on the beach and hand out life jackets. A middle-aged woman not dressed for getting wet looks up from her phone, and she seems confused.

Tourist: “What is this for?”

Me: “For the cave swim tour, ma’am.”

Tourist: “You never told me we would have to swim!”

Me: “I explained at the resort that the tour involved exploring swimming into a cave.”

Tourist: “You should have been clearer!”

Me: “Ma’am, the tour is for the exploration of a natural cave that can only be accessed through the ocean. The name of the tour is the ‘Cave Swim Tour’. I don’t know how much clearer I could have been.”

Tourist: “I thought there would be like a guest path or something! What if I needed to use the restroom or stop for a coffee?” 

Me: “…I don’t think this is the tour for you, ma’am.”

I am a tour guide in Central America. I’ve taken a small group of American women travelling together on a week-long itinerary to a restaurant that specializes in local cuisine that is hard to find in most places in the USA. They’re all enjoying the meal, except one.

Me: “[Tourist], are you okay? Do you not like the food?”

Tourist: “I’m fine, thanks.”

I notice that she has started to munch on a protein bar.

Me: “Are you not feeling well?”

Tourist: *Sternly* “I’m fine, thanks!“

I leave it for now, and we continue our tour. I notice the entire day that she eats only from a small duffel bag of protein bars. I am now worried that we’ve neglected to take account of any dietary requirements, and I bring this up with her.

Tourist: “No, it’s just I don’t trust any of this local food!”

Me: “I assure you that we are only going to highly-regarded and well-maintained restaurants. They’re perfectly safe for—”

Tourist: “It’s all Mexican food!”

Me: “Well, yes, we’re in Mexico. But we’ve also been to a wide range of eateries, not just Mexican, such as—”

Tourist: “Yes, but they’re all in Mexico! Look, I’ll be fine! Just do the tour!”

By day four, she was complaining of stomach cramps, and her farts were so bad that I thought they would strip the paint off the interior of the bus. I had to help her find a McDonald’s or something so that she would eat actual food.

Related:
His Constipación Is Making Him Estúpido!

I am guiding a group of tourists on a canoe trip. Part of the experience takes us through a natural cave.

Me: “Okay, watch your head, guys. The cave can get a bit low as we pass through.”

Cue lots of “ooh”s and “ahh”s as most of the tourists enjoy the unique experience. The sounds of awe are punctuated by an angry cough. It is… her. She has been the absolute worst since the tour started.

She was at first “appalled” that she had to manually move the canoe herself; she was expecting an engine or someone to do it for her. Next, she complained that her hair was getting wet… in a canoe… in the ocean. Every complaint has been preceded by a cough, so I am bracing myself for the next one.

Tourist: “I need to use the restroom.”

Me: “Okay?”

Tourist: “Well? Where is it?”

Me: “We’re in canoes, in a cave, surrounded by ocean water.”

Tourist: “And? I need to use the restroom.”

Me: “Knock yourself out.”

Tourist: “What do you mean?”

Me: “You’re in a canoe, in the ocean. What do you think I mean?”

Suddenly, her eyes go wide.

Tourist: “You’re saying I should go in the ocean?!”

Me: “If you really need to go, I don’t see an alternative.”

Tourist: “That’s it! I was going to complain anyway, but I’m really going to drag this tour through the mud! No one said there would be no restrooms!”

Me: “Ma’am, it’s a canoe trip through natural caves. There are no restrooms. I didn’t think that would need explaining. What else were you looking for, a Starbucks?”

Tourist: “This is very inconvenient!”

I really didn’t know what else to say to her. She also scolded her children when they wanted to swim in the ocean because — in her words — the locals piss in it. Yeah… and so do all the fish!

Related:
Urine Trouble Now, Part 3
Urine Trouble Now, Part 2
Urine Trouble Now