A Hurricane Of Stupid

I work in southwest Florida on the beach. Right now, we are closed, as the hotel is completely unlivable due to a hurricane. However, I’m working overnight security, keeping the riffraff away.

I’m sitting in my “guard shack” watching a movie, and a car drives up. That’s not unusual. It’s midnight, but there are still a lot of FEMA workers, state, county, and city officials, police, and contractors running around. The person in this car is none of the above.

Tourist: “Hi, I’m looking to check in.”

Me: “You’re kidding, right?”

I’m hoping this is a FEMA guy messing with me.

Tourist: “I have a reservation.”

I look back at the ruins of the hotel.

Me: “Ah, we canceled all reservations before the storm. Hotel’s closed.”

Tourist: “But I have a reservation.”

Me: “Sir, I don’t care. The building is unsafe, and even if it was safe, I have no way of checking you in.”

Tourist: *Getting angry* “I have a reservation; you have to check me in! I want to speak you your supervisor.”

Me: “No, sir. I’m just gonna call a deputy to escort you off the island if you don’t leave.”

Tourist: “Fine!”

He proceeds to sit there. I call for a deputy, who shows up right quick; they’re crawling all over the island looking for looters.

Tourist: “He won’t check me in!” *Points at me*

Deputy: “Sir, are you stupid? You’re not even supposed to be allowed here. You’re either going to follow me out or I’ll arrest you for trespassing.”

Long story short, the tourist didn’t argue with the sheriff’s deputy, although I kind of wish he had; I kind of wanted to see him get tased. The tourist begrudgingly followed the deputy away.