(I was born and raised in Alaska. I’ve been told by a lot of people that I sound very generically American. I’ve been answering questions for this couple for about five minutes.)

Me: “Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with!”

Male Tourist: “No, we’ll be fine, thanks.”

Me: “Okay. Enjoy your stay!”

Female Tourist: “Thanks, honey. You speak real good English for being an Alaskan!”

Customer: “Hi, how old to children have to be ’til they have to pay admission?”

Me: “Four years old. Three and under are free.”

Customer: “One adult and one three year old, then.”

Daughter: “But daddy, I’m four now.”

Customer: “In a minute, darling.”

Daughter: “Daddy, I’m four!”

(I am a vampire at a haunted house. My costume includes fangs, a cape, and of course, I am drenched in blood.)

Teenage girl: *looking extremely mad* “What is this?! They got your costumes all wrong!”

Me: *snarling, not dropping character* “You smell delicious…it’s so rare we get fresh victims…”

Teenage girls: “No, no, no! Vampires drink ANIMAL blood! And why aren’t you sparkling?!”

Me: “Your neck…it’s so…inviting—”

Teenage girl: “This is WRONG! You aren’t real vampires!” *stomps away*

Related:
Less Twilight, More Daylight, Part 6
Less Twilight, More Daylight, Part 5
Less Twilight, More Daylight, Part 4
Less Twilight, More Daylight, Part 3
Less Twilight, More Daylight, Part 2
Less Twilight, More Daylight

Customer: “Hey, are there any Indian attacks on this village?”

Me: *taken aback* “Um. No. No, there are not.”

Customer: “Well, what about the sign?”

Me: “What sign?”

Customer: “The sign that says ‘Watch Out For Ava-LAN-cheez’.”

(From his pronunciation, it’s clear what he’s actually referring to are Apaches, not avalanches.)

Me: *trying not to laugh* “Um, no…they never attack our small village anymore.”

(I manage a tourist center that welcomes people coming into New Mexico. An obviously American tourist comes into the center.)

Tourist: *in broken Spanish* “Excuse me! I think you all forgot something.”

Me: *in English* “Yes, how can I help you?”

Tourist: *more broken Spanish* “Nobody was checking for
passports when we crossed the border here.”

Me: “Passports?”

Tourist: “We are in Mexico now, after all.”

Me: “This is New Mexico, sir. You don’t need a passport to–”

Tourist: “What’s to stop illegal immigrants from coming into the United States if they don’t check our passports coming into New Mexico?”

Me: “Sir, New Mexico is part of the United States.”

Tourist: “Now you’re just lying to me.”