(I work for a large hotel company that has many locations. The hotel where I work is in downtown Washington, DC. The phone rings.)

Me: “Hello! My name is [My Name]. How may I help you today?”

Caller: “Hello. I’d like to make a booking for a room with an ocean and beach view.”

Me: “Oh, this is actually [Hotel] in Washington, DC. Did you mean to call a different location?”

Caller: “No, I’m calling [Hotel] in Washington, DC.”

Me: “Um, I’m sorry, but there’s no ocean in Washington, DC.”

(A couple of my coworkers turn around to look at me with raised eyebrows when I say this.)

Caller: “Oh, well just any view, then, I guess.”

I was enjoying a beer with my husband at a local pub near a well-respected university when we overheard two local, college-age girls discussing languages. One girl was from Israel and her American friend was asking which dialect of Hebrew she spoke. The Israeli said, “Just Hebrew.” Her friend kept repeating her question and went on to explain how folks in different countries, like Mexico, have different dialects. My favorite example she gave was the “Guacamolans” and how they speak differently from other Mexicans. It took everything we had not to laugh out loud.

(I live and work in Iceland.)

Customer: “Do you have international busses?”

Me: *thinking I misheard* “Sorry, a bus for where?”

Customer: “You know, for Scotland or somewhere outside of Iceland.”

Me: “You realize this is an island? You can’t drive to another country from here.”

Customer: “Not at all? What about busses that drive onto ferries that take you somewhere?”

Me: “It takes a few days to sail to the next country.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “So, no. No, we don’t have those.”

Customer: “Not in the whole country?”

Me: “I mean, we’re just one company. You can try asking at the tourist information, but…” *the customer walks off* “…I highly doubt it.”

(Some friends of mine have gotten together. One of the group is American and is visiting the UK for a few days. As the evening goes on, and drink has been drunk, one of the friends drunkenly starts telling the American friend all sorts of “facts” about his own country, resulting in this gem.)

Drunk Friend: *to American Friend* “…and America is big, you know? It’s bigger than this table!”

(I work in a tyre shop just off the main shopping street in a small holiday town. The town has a similar name to several other similarly-sized towns in the UK. One Saturday morning I take this phone call:)

Customer: “Hi, I’ve got a puncture; are you close to the high street?”

Me: “Yes, we’re about fifty metres off it. Turn down the side of the old, blue chapel and you’ll see us on your right.”

Customer: “Okay, I’m parked in the high street and I can’t see a chapel. I’m by the white tower.”

Me: *thinking he must mean our lighthouse, which is actually a little way out of town* “Okay, you need to head south, then at the roundabout take the third exit, and then turn right when you’ve passed the supermarket.”

Customer: *angrily* “WHAT? No! I’m in the high street now, I can see the white tower. Where are you?”

Me: “We’re about a mile from the lighthouse tower.”

Customer: “NO! NOT A LIGHTHOUSE, THE WHITE TOWER!”

Me: “Sir, I don’t know any white tower other than the lighthouse.”

Customer: “THE BIG WHITE TOWER IN THE HIGH STREET!”

Me: “I’ve lived here all my life and there is no white tower on the high street.”

Customer: “There’s a clock at the top of it! I passed a pub called The Star! THE WHITE TOWER!”

Me: *catches on, and hits Google* “Sir, you’ve phoned a company in Burnham on Sea, Somerset; you appear to be in Burnham on Crouch in Essex, 220 miles away…”

Customer: *hangs up*

(Still, he’s not the only one to have made the mistake. Our local paper printed a photo of the post office in the “wrong” Burnham recently!)