Cape Of Good Hope They Get Fired

(I’m the customer. I am at home, calling a travel agency on the phone. The agent who takes my call sounds middle-aged, with a strong Southern drawl.)

Me: “I’d like to get an estimate on a round-trip ticket to Cape Town.”

Agent: “Cape Town? You mean Cape Cod. That’s in Massachusetts, honey.”

Me: “No. I do not mean Cape Cod. I mean Cape Town. That is in South Africa.”

Agent: “Cape Town?! Who in heck-fire would want to go there? Are you black?!”

Me: *speechless* “Uh…”

(I hang up on her, fume for ten minutes, then call back. This time, someone else answers. I explain that I called a few minutes ago about a flight to South Africa. The new agent on the phone interrupts.)

New Agent: “Yes, ma’am. You’re interested in Cape Town. We all heard what she said, and we are so sorry. She is now in the manager’s office, and I can promise you she will be let go today. I am so, so sorry.”

(She then gave me preliminary estimates, asked for my number, and spent a day researching cheaper go-arounds, such as flying through different connecting airports in Europe, Florida, and South America. I ended up getting a very good price.)