(I work in a travel agency, specializing in cruises, where we only deal with clients over the phone. Our agency has the word “CRUISE” in the name, and that’s plastered all over our website. It’s also in the phone message you get before you speak to one of the agents.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Agency]. This is [My Name] speaking; how may I help you?”

Client: *mumble, mumble, mumble*

Me: “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I think we have a bad connection; I’m having a hard time hearing you.”

Client:” *mumble, mumble, something unintelligible* “Jamaica.”

Me: “Oh, you’d like to visit Jamaica?”

(The client continues to talk under her breath, so I can’t hear more than a few words. Eventually, she finally begins to enunciate clearly.)

Client: “How much are flights to Jamaica?”

Me: “Ma’am, we are a cruise-only agency; we do not deal directly with flights and airfare.”

Client: “Fine, how much are cruises to Jamaica?”

Me: “It depends; there are a lot of different factors: length of time you’re sailing, what ship you’re on, where you leave from—”

Client: *interrupting me* “I want to leave from Michigan.”

Me: “I’m sorry, there are no cruises that originate in Michigan. Other than the Great Lakes, which cruise ships don’t sail on, Michigan is land-locked.”

Client: “But I want to leave from Michigan. I live there.”

Me: *screaming internally* 

(Ultimately, what the woman was looking for — after a LOT of back-and-forth due to her perpetual mumbling — wasn’t even a cruise. I couldn’t help her, but it did make me wonder how people can have such a lack of comprehension over basic geography, especially for where they live.)

(I go to a college in Florida that attracts a lot of kids from the Northeastern US. I don’t think much of it until one day at the beginning of my senior year. We are doing a case study as a class, and the girl in front of me raises her hand to speak. Note: I’m a local, and that will be important later.)

Professor: “Yes, [Girl]?”

Girl: “Oh, this reminds me of something that happened back home. You guys know where [Restaurant] is, of course. Well, remember when–”

(She launches into a story filled with references from her hometown that I am confused by. Half the class is nodding and laughing; the other half is looking at each other and shrugging. The kid on my left pokes me.)

Kid: “Do you even know where we are right now? I’m lost.”

Me: “No idea.”

Kid: “Does she realize that some of us have no clue?”

Me: “I guess not.”

(I raise my hand.)

Professor: “Yes, [My Name]?”

Me: “Where, exactly, are we right now? I’m confused.”

Girl: “I’m talking about [Her Hometown], obviously. It’s just like our case study! How could you not know?”

Me: “Because I don’t live there?”

Girl: “But everyone knows [Her Hometown]! Where are you even from?”

Me: *points toward the main highway* “About five minutes that way.”

Girl: “Floridians go here, too?! I didn’t think you could!”

Me: “Did you really think this college was just for Northeasterners?”

Professor: “Okay, okay! Let’s stick to less obscure references next time, shall we? And yes, if I remember my records completely, about half of you are locals. It’s good to have all of you here.”

(I ended up taking two more classes with that professor next semester. He was great at consistently shutting down BS.)

(I work in a visitor center in an area known for its high Gullah population. Gullah people are the descendants of African slaves who developed their own unique culture, language, and religion in the American low-country. For some reason, we get a lot of visitors who think that they live on some kind of reservation like zoo exhibits, and it is surprisingly difficult to convince them that Gullah are regular people who live like everyone else. This call, however, really makes me question my faith in humanity.)

Me: “Good afternoon. How can I help you today?”

Caller: “I want to go to Gullah Gullah Island.”

Me: “I’m sorry; did you say Gullah Gullah Island?”

Caller: “Yes. I heard it was in South Carolina and I want to go there.”

Me: “Sir, as far as I know, that’s just a TV show.”

Caller: “No, I was told it was in South Carolina.”

(While he’s talking, I’m looking it up to see if it is a real place.)

Me: “It looks like the TV show was based on Saint Helena Island, which is a gorgeous island with lots of Gullah history—”

Caller: “No, I want to go to Gullah Gullah Island to see the Gullah people.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not sure what else to tell you. Gullah Gullah Island itself is not a real place. It is based on a real island, which is a lovely place to visit, but it is not called Gullah Gullah Island.”

Caller: “You’re useless. I’m going to talk to someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

(I hope he enjoys his visit to the non-existent Gullah Gullah Island!)

(I live in the state of Wisconsin and I have Internet friends all over, including one in North Carolina. The following is a conversation I once had with her.)

Friend: “Come give me a hug!”

Me: “Sure! I’ll be there in however long it takes me to get from Wisconsin to North Carolina.”

Friend: “Wisconsin?”

Me: “The state? Wisconsin?”

Friend: “Wisconsin is a state?”

(We get other Internet friends involved, most of them yelling at her that yes, Wisconsin is a state. I start trying to describe where it’s located to maybe get her to realize.)

Me: “Have you ever heard of the city Chicago?”

Friend: “Chicago? Yeah, isn’t it over by Idaho?”

Me: *deep sigh*

(I am working as a burger flipper and petrol pump assistant in a tiny tourist town on the Great Ocean Road when a terribly rude American tourist asks me the following.)

Tourist: “Excuse me, ma’am. Could you tell me what is the best time to catch a flight to Hobart?”

(Hobart is the capital city in Tasmania, the island State at the bottom of Australia.)

Me: “Well, that depends; when do you need to arrive?”

Tourist: *suddenly and unexpectedly yelling* “Don’t play games with me, young lady. I’m not a stupid tourist, you know!”

Me: “…?”

Tourist: “I know that Tasmania rotates, so it must be cheaper to fly at certain times of day when Hobart is closer to the mainland.”

Me: “…?!”

Tourist: “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

Me: *speechless*

Related:
No Vocation For Location, Part 22
No Vocation For Location, Part 21
No Vocation For Location, Part 20