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Managed To Get Both Continents Wrong

, , , | Right | December 19, 2019

(My friend and I are waiting in a very long, slow-moving passport control line to travel back to Canada. An agent begins to direct EU citizens to a different line. The man behind me has a clear American accent.)

Agent: “EU passports, gates D and E! Come this way!”

Man: *behind us, to his wife* “We’re going to gate D!”

Agent: “EU passports only, gates D and E! Please come to this line!

Man: “That’s us! We’re gate D!”

Friend: *turns around to man* “Are you an EU citizen? Do you have an EU passport?”

Man: “I’m gate D!”

Friend: “But do you have an EU passport?”

Man: “But she’s saying gate D, that’s us!”

Friend: “Gate D for EU citizens only! Are you from North America?”

Man: “No, I’m not from North America! I’m from Chicago!”

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His Speaking Speed Keeps Dublin And Dublin  

, , , , | Right | December 6, 2019

(I work as a waiter and bartender at an Irish pub in Spain that also serves restaurant food. I don’t speak Spanish but have picked up enough to get by when working — food, drinks, numbers, etc. I generally don’t have any language problems while working, but it’s obvious Spanish is not my native language. A Spanish customer has come in with his wife and son to eat lunch.)

Wife: *in Spanish* “I’ll have the chicken burger and a lemonade, please.”

Me: *in Spanish* “That’s fine.”

Son: *in Spanish* “And I’ll have fish and chips and a Coke.”

Me: *in Spanish* “Certainly.”

Husband: *speaks in Spanish too quickly and unintelligibly for me to understand*

Me: *in Spanish* “I’m sorry?”

Husband: *still speaks too quickly*

Me: *in English* “I’m sorry, I can’t quite understand that.”

Husband: *still speaking too quickly*

Me: “Maybe if you show me on the menu?”

Husband: *more unintelligible Spanish, getting annoyed*

(His wife then attempts to tell me what her husband wants, but he silences her.)

Husband: *more unintelligible Spanish*

(I think I finally understand the order and leave to give it to the cooks. When it’s ready, I bring the order back. The husband looks at his meal and then at me.)

Husband: *in perfect English* “I said I wanted the Irish Breakfast!”


This story is part of our Spain-themed roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

13 Cringeworthy True Stories About Tourists Who Have Absolutely No Clue

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Read the first Spain-themed roundup story!

Read the Spain-themed roundup!

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Totally Estúpido! Part 9

, , , , , | Friendly | November 18, 2019

(I am on holiday in an all-inclusive hotel complex on the Spanish island of Mallorca. The hotel is a mixture of English, German, Dutch, Russian, and Spanish holidaymakers. I am English but used to live in Spain many years ago. My Spanish is a little rusty at times, but I still try to use it as much as often when speaking to Spanish inhabitants, mainly as I find it a bit more respectful than just expecting them to speak English. Sadly, some of my compatriots don’t think the same way, and many English holidaymakers don’t make the effort to learn even one or two words of Spanish that may help them get by. I have just been served a beer at the bar of the hotel, and I have just had a brief, pleasant conversation with the barman, in Spanish. As I am walking away from the bar, a fellow holidaymaker from England who I talked to a few days ago notices me with the beer in my hand and approaches me.)

Holidaymaker: “Where did you get that beer from?”

Me: *motioning behind me to the large bar that I am about five feet from* “Erm, from the bar.”

Holidaymaker: “Aww, I really want a beer.”

(He then looks at me expectantly. An awkward silence follows.)

Me: “Umm… just go and ask for one at the bar, then?”

Holidaymaker: “But… I don’t speak Spanish.”

Me: “Erm… okay. I’m pretty sure that the barman speaks English.”

Holidaymaker: “But… I heard you talking to him in Spanish. Why would you do that if he speaks English?”

Me: “Because I can speak Spanish and we’re in Spain. It’s not a big deal. Honestly, I don’t think he will mind if you can’t speak Spanish. Just ask him for one in English.”

Holidaymaker: “But… you’re English. Why didn’t you ask him in English? Are you taking the mickey out of me?”

Me: *utterly confused by now* “What?”

Other Holidaymaker: “If he speaks English, and you’re English, then why didn’t you ask him in English?”

(There is another long awkward silence.)

Me: *trying to get away from him* “Lo siento mucho, señor. No hablo ingles.”

(I walked away from him, leaving him totally and utterly confused.)

Related:
Totally Estupido, Part 8
Totally Estupido, Part 7
Totally Estupido, Part 6


This story is part of our Spain-themed roundup!

Read the next Spain-themed roundup story!

Read the Spain-themed roundup!

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It Made More Sense On Paper  

, , | Working | November 4, 2019

(I’ve been working as a waiter at a bar for around a month. I know most drink names and how to do nearly everything a customer might ask, but I still need some help from time to time. It’s a very busy evening and I see a man at the bar who hasn’t been served.)

Me: “Hi there! What can I get you?”

Customer: “A paper booklet.”

(Because there’s so much noise, I can’t hear him properly.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I follow.”

Customer: “I want a paper booklet!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m quite new here; I don’t really understand…” 

Customer: “Oh, I’ll just ask someone else!”

(He stomps away to ask a coworker. Another coworker comes to see what the trouble is. I tell her what happened.)

Coworker: “He was talking about smoking paper. You know, the paper you use to roll your own cigarettes?”

(I went to get it and apologised to him, an apology he reluctantly accepted. Then, my boss, who was around, asked me what it was all about. I told him what had gone down and he asked why I didn’t get him the tobacco rolling paper before; honestly, it had never crossed my mind! I told my boss that all I could really think about was a small book of papers, and that the only thing I could think of was getting the papers we use to write orders down, stapling some together and giving them to him! He laughed so hard he was nearly crying, and so did all my coworkers; it was all good in the end, and a fun way to end my shift.)

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Not Inclined To Help You

, , , , | Friendly | November 2, 2019

(I am on a seven-and-a-half-hour bus ride in a tiny seat. There are two stops: a long one in the middle and a short one an hour away from my city. The seats are reclinable chairs, and there is very little room for your legs even if the person in front of you doesn’t recline theirs. If they do, it is less than comfortable, and if they recline it twice the room disappears. Most people just recline it once, knowing it wouldn’t be pleasant for the person behind if they did it twice. I never recline it. I’m a short female, about 1,60m or 5’3”. A couple about my age get on the bus on the long stop. The guy sits in front of me, both of us having window seats. He immediately reclines his seat twice, so it rests on my knees. I wait for about ten minutes and then try to talk to him.)

Me: “Hi, could you please–”

Guy: “No! The seat in front of me is reclined, so I’m doing the same!”

Me: “I understand, but you have reclined yours twice, so there isn’t–”

Guy: “I don’t care! They have reclined their seat, and so have I!”

(His poor girlfriend seems to be distressed about his tone. She looks like a quiet girl and obviously isn’t having fun.) 

Me: “All right, I’m just trying to be polite and not to disturb the person behind me.”

Guy: “I DON’T CARE!”

Me: *quietly* “Ooookay.”

(I spent the next hour and a half crossing and uncrossing my legs once a minute, perfectly aware that he was feeling every movement like I was pushing his back. We made the short stop, and when the guy returned to his seat, he adjusted it to the recline-once position without a word. I stopped crossing my legs, though it’d have been sooo easy to keep on doing it for the rest of the journey… I guess I’m not a vengeful spirit.)

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