I’m a fan of ‘Hazbin Hotel’, an adult cartoon, and own a plushie of the main character, which I keep on a low shelf in my room. My nephew once came into my room and was fascinated by it.

Nephew: “Can I play with it for a bit?”

Me: “Yes.”

I wasn’t too fussed on keeping it pristine, and at the same time, I knew my nephew wasn’t going to tear it to pieces.

Apparently, it made an impression on him because he asked his mom, my sister, to have one too.

Sister: “Where can I find that stuffed doll of yours? I can’t find it in any toy store.”

Me: “Online, though… I must warn you, the character is from an adult cartoon. You might want to reconsider.”

Sister: “Oh, so like The Simpsons? What’s the issue?”

Me: “No, it’s not like The Simpsons. It’s much cruder; it has a lot of gore and sex references.”

Sister: “Then why did you let [Nephew] play with a doll related to it?”

Me: “It’s a normal stuffed toy, not exactly anything harmful, it’s just that you probably should not let him see the source material, y’know?”

Sister: “That’s for me to decide. Gimme the name and I’ll check it out.”

She didn’t end up buying it, and later told me to hide the doll for a little while.

I hear a group of English-speaking tourists at one of our tables, likely American or Canadian. I introduce myself in English.

Me: “Good evening! Welcome to [Restaurant]; would you like some water?”

Customer: “Hi! I bet you’re relieved that you don’t have to go from English to Italian to English again, right?”

Me: *Confused.* “I can speak English fluently, if that’s what you mean?”

I can tell the rest of his table is also confused by his comment.

Customer: “No, I mean translating in your head. You can just go from English to English.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m really not following.”

Customer: “You know how everyone thinks in English, but has to translate to their country’s language? With us, you don’t have to do the Italian part in the middle!”

Me: “Maybe I’m misunderstanding, sir, but Italian is my first language. I think in Italian but am more than capable of translating it into English when I speak.”

Customer’s Friend: “[Customer’s Name], do you think that everyone, and I mean everyone, thinks in English, like… by default? They just speak another language for the h*** of it?”

Customer: “Yeah, they do, don’t they? Human brains are coded in English, but some countries force them to speak in other languages. I’m just telling the guy it must be nice for him to have some genuine English speakers for once, so he doesn’t have to think in English, speak in Italian, and then convert back to English again.”

I admit I am stunned. For the first time in my service career, I have no idea what to say.

Customer’s Friend: “Oh my god, [Customer’s Name], are you really that f****** dumb?!”

The customer’s friend turns to me.

Customer’s Friend: “Yes, we will have some water, please, and however many bottles of the house red you think it will take to kill this guy’s last brain cell.”

The rest of the table apologised for their friend while they ordered. They were a lovely table who tipped well (even though we don’t really have a tipping culture here), but the entire time that customer seemed to be confused that English wasn’t the automatic default language in everyone’s brains. 

Related:
Ah, Yes, English: The Default Language, Part 2
Ah, Yes, English: The Default Language

My job is as a tech at a diagnostic imaging clinic: think echographies, x-rays, and so on. The clinic cannot offer any other sort of services whatsoever.

A young man calls for an appointment “as soon as possible” for a foot x-ray. The day comes, and he gives some general information to the doctor. He says he suffered a domestic accident and wanted to be sure. The doctor asks him to remove his shoe and socks. When he does, even I can tell something’s very wrong with his pinky toe, because it’s bruised and as purple as a plum.

Doctor: “That definitely looks fractured! Why aren’t you in urgent care!?”

Patient: “Doctor, if I told the nurse at the hospital’s desk I stubbed my pinky toe on a bedside table, how many hours do you think she would’ve laughed at me?”

Doctor: “How the h*** are you even walking? That looks like you’ve gotten bone dust in there.”

Man: “I dunno, just put on some ice and a f***-ton of Voltaren on it.”

In the end, his pinky toe was really fractured. In fact, it was beyond fractured: it apparently was never going to heal properly. I want to have that man’s pain tolerance.

I work at a tourist information point near the Colosseum in Rome. A tourist walks over and speaks in broken English, while pointing at the Colosseum:

Tourist: “When next fights?”

Me: “Do you mean tour? You want to do a tour of the Colosseum?”

Tourist: “No tour. Tour boring. When can I see next combats between gladiators and lions?”

Me: “That doesn’t happen anymore.”

Tourist: “No today?”

Me: “No ever.”

Tourist: “So tomorrow?”

Me: “No. Never. The Colosseum is just an old building now. No fights.”

Tourist: “Okay, I come back tomorrow.”

He wanders off. I’m not working tomorrow so I leave a note for my coworker that “some guy might come back and ask for tickets to the gladiatorial games.” My coworker thought I was joking, until he came back demanding fights to the death…

I work as a receptionist in a hotel in a small town on the Italian coast. When booking the stay, we make it clear right away that check-in is not possible before 2:30 pm. Our housekeeping staff is AMAZING, fast, and efficient, but they still need a few hours to clean over seventy rooms!

A family have shown up at 7 AM, demanding that we give them their room early:

Guest: “We have small children who suffer in the heat!”

Me: “Yes, Italy can be very hot in July. Feel free to enjoy the lobby air conditioning while you decide on how to spend your morning. We can hold your luggage if you like, and have it brought up to your room when you check in.”

Guest: “No! We want to get into our rooms now!”

Me: “I’m afraid check-in is at 2:30 PM. We cannot guarantee a check-in before this time.”

Guest: “Go and make the people in our room leave!”

Me: “It is still their room until checkout, and we would never dream of doing such a thing!”

Guest: “We’d better be getting an upgrade for this!”

Me: “Why?”

Guest: “For the inconvenience of making us wait in the heat!”

Me: “As I said, you are very early, and you’re free to rest in our lobby and restaurant area until you figure out how you’d like to spend the day until check-in. Any perceived inconvenience incurred is entirely down to you and your planning.”

Guest: “But I have a baby!”

Me: “Yes, you do. I see that the baby is sleeping; it would probably be best not to raise your voice.”

The guests storm off to the lobby couches and make it clear how inconvenienced they are by having to wait. They do eventually find something to do and leave for the morning but still come back at 1 PM demanding room access and claiming we’d guaranteed them early check-in.

After they checked in, I saw them dragging their baby to the beach under the afternoon sun in heatwave weather.