If Only He Listened As Loud As He Speaks

I’m staying at a hotel with my husband, who is in his company uniform as we are here for a work thing. On our way up to our room, there is a gentleman trying to get into one that we have to pass to get to ours. His frustrated eye falls on my husband.

The gentleman seems incapable of speaking at anything lower than “foghorn”.

Gentleman: “YOU! YOU WORK HERE!”

Husband: “No, sir, I’m a guest.”

Gentleman: “OH.”

He turns back to the door, we move past him.

Gentleman: “WHERE YOU GO? YOU HELP ME.”

Husband: “I don’t work here.”

Gentleman: “YOU SAID YOU DO. OPEN DOOR.”

Husband: “I said I don’t and I can’t help you.”

Gentleman: “YOU CALL ME LIAR? YOU SAID YOU WORK HERE. GET ME KEY!”

Husband: “Go down to the front desk. They can help you.”

Gentleman: “YOU HERE NOW. YOU GET ME KEY. YOU OPEN DOOR.”

Husband: “Dude, unless that door has an issue with its water intake or steam pressure, I can’t help you. Go to the front desk.”

Gentleman: “NO! YOU HELP NOW!“

The man literally stomped his foot.

I may have giggled at this point. He started turning purple, but my husband just hustled me into our room. There was some more loud talking in a language I couldn’t identify, but then it went quiet.

No idea if he got his key or not.