The guest books a room with two king beds. He checks in. Goes to the room. Comes back angry because the room has only two king beds.

Guest: “But we are five.”

Me: “Yes, sir, the room allows up to five people in it, but as the description says, it has only two king beds.”

Guest: “But we are five.”

Me: “Yes, sir. Some people bring inflatable mattresses, some sleep three in a king bed, or we can also rent you a folding bed for [price per night].”

Guest: “This is infuriating! I pay [price] a night! There should be more beds!”

Me: “So do you want the folding bed? It’s going to be [price] with the tax.”

Guest: “Can’t we make a deal? I pay [lower price] a night!”

Me: “I have to follow the policy, sir; if not, my boss isn’t happy.”

Guest: *Grumbles.* “I pay [price] a night! Unbelievable!” *Grumbling continues.*

I go to get him his folding bed and bring it to the room. He opens it, still infuriated, and doesn’t say anything.

Me: *Rolling it in.* “Have a nice day, sir.”

I hear him grumble while I close the door.

Guest: “I pay [price] a night! Unbelievable!”

Unbelievable situation indeed, that what is in the room corresponds exactly to the description of the room.

My sister, mom, and I are on our way home from shopping. We were waiting at the bus station to get home. The next bus information screens indicated that an [Express Route] bus was coming in five minutes, so we were waiting at the bus bay for it.

About two minutes or so passed. A [Local Route] bus drives up to the bay, disembarks its passengers, and drives off. One of these passengers is [Wanderer], who appears to be lost. Before either of us can realize what was happening, [Wanderer] makes a beeline towards us.

Wanderer: “Hello. You have to help me. I’m [unintelligible].”

My Mom: “What?”

Wanderer: “I’m trying to head to 2-[Unintelligible] [Street Name]. How do I get there?”

Me: “Oh, [Street Name]? If it helps, [Bus Route] over there goes directly on [Street], but I don’t know anything else about where you need to go.”

Wanderer: “No, I need [Local Route].”

My Sister: “But he just said we don’t know how to get there! And both [Local Route] and [Bus Route] pass there anyway.”

[Wanderer] says nothing and goes on their phone. My sister, my mom, and I look at each other, unsure as to what is happening, and what to do. However, we would have no time to contemplate this as the [Express Route] bus begins to pull into the station. We look at each other again, and as soon as [Express Route] bus stops at the bus bay, we immediately head onto the bus. [Wanderer] notices this.

Wanderer: “Wait! You need to help me!”

Me: *Turning around as soon as I enter the bus.* “I told you already [Bus Route] over there—” *Points to the bus bay where [Bus Route] is as I say this.* “—goes onto [Street]! Otherwise, we don’t know where you need to go.”

I went to sit down on the bus with my mom and sister. [Wanderer] simply watched in confusion as the bus pulled out of the station.

Later on, at home, I was curious about where [Wanderer] had to go, why they wanted [Local Route], and how they ended up at the station. So, I decided to look up what I remembered hearing about the address they gave us. I searched for 2000 [Street] and… the maps showed [Bus Route] we were telling [Wanderer] to board doesn’t pass that address. I searched 2100 to 2900 [Street], and most of the addresses aren’t close to [Bus Route].

The only thing I can think of is that [Wanderer] was told to take [Local Route], get off at [Street], and take the bus route that runs in the area where they had to go. But for some reason, the only thing they remembered was that they had to take [Local Route].

When I used to work in the call center of a phone company back when everyone had landlines, and only rich people had cellphones, I was talking to one angry guy:

Caller: “Why are you still charging me?!”

Me: “For your phone service?”

Caller: “Yeah!”

Me: “Because we’re still providing it. You still have an active number.”

Caller: “No, I don’t! I unplugged my phone from the wall a month ago!”

Customer: “When you were talking just now to that other customer…”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “What accent was that?”

Me: “Accent? I suppose you could call it Québécois French.”

Customer: “Funny, I couldn’t understand a word you were saying. It almost didn’t sound English.”

Me: “It’s not English, it’s French.”

Customer: “Why would you be speaking French in Canada?”

Me: “Because this is French Canada. French is spoken here. You’re currently in the French-Canadian capital.

Customer: “‘French Canadian’ is a thing?”

Me: “Very much so.”

Customer: “Oh. I thought it was like ‘French fries’, like, you know, French in the name but really American?”

Me: “No, when we say French, we mean the language.”

Customer: “I’ve never heard of a language being spoken outside the original country. Weird.”

Me: “So you’ve never heard of Mexico?”

Customer: “Of course I have! I go there every winter!”

Me: “What language do they speak there?”

Customer: “Mexican!”

I left well enough alone and simply poured him more coffee.

Customer: “Do you have a list of ingredients for your oranges?”

Me: “They’re just oranges.”

Customer: “Yes, but are they free of chemicals?”

Me: “The organic ones are pesticide-free.”

Customer: “Yes… but are they free… of chemicals?”

Me: “What do you mean by chemicals?”

Customer: “Well, I was at Trader Joe’s last week, and I saw that their oranges had ascorbic acid in them, and I don’t want any of that in my body!”

Me: “Ascorbic acid is the chemical name for vitamin C.”

Customer: *Ignoring me.* “So anyway, I want only things without chemicals! No chemicals are ever going to go into my body!”

I told her the organic fruits are free of “harmful chemicals” and that seemed to do the trick, which is good because I’d hate to have to start selling items that are not made up of atoms, as sourcing those would be really tough…