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Mom Is Bus-ted

, , | Related | July 31, 2017

(We have just arrived in Switzerland after traveling through Germany and Austria on foot for a holiday. My mother is infamously unwilling to believe that maps or locals know what they’re talking about. I have taken charge of getting us to housing for visitors to a local attraction.)

Mom: “Where are we going?”

Me: “Tempelstrasse 9 in Sollikofe.”

Mom: “But I looked up the website and they said Munchenbuchsee was the mailing address. It didn’t say anything about Sollikofe.”

Me: “I have the physical address from the site and the person who made our reservation directed me to Sollikofe. That’s why we took the train to Sollikofe.”

Mom: “LOOK! The bus to Munchenbuchsee. That’s the one we need.”

(She grabs her suitcase and climbs on board while I try to explain that no, we are literally a quarter of a mile from the housing.)

Mom: “I don’t have any francs. How much is the bus?”

Driver: “4 francs 60 per person.”

Mom: “Pay him.”

Me: “But we’re trying to go to—”

Mom: “The site says we have to go to Munchenbuchsee from the train station. PAY HIM and we’ll get directions on which stop to take.”

Me: *to driver* “We need to go to Tempelstrasse 9, Sollikofe.”

Driver: “I don’t know where that is. Take this bus to Munchenbuchsee and they’ll give you the bus number you need to take to Tempelstrasse.”

(I resignedly pay because no one will help me. We sit down and a nice lady leans over.)

Lady: “Where are you trying to go?”

Me: “Tempelstrasse 9, Sollikofe.”

Lady: “Oh, where you can stay for the [Local Attraction]! I know exactly where that is! Why did you get on the bus?”

Me: “Because no one would listen to me.”

Lady: “Get off here and you can take another bus back to the train station and walk for five minutes from there.”

Mom: “You mean you forced me to get on the wrong bus?”

(I turned and glared at her. She shut up immediately. We got off at the next stop and the lady drove us five minutes to the front door of the housing, while Mom kept repeating “Why didn’t you tell me we could have walked there?!”)

A Name That Doesn’t Travel Well

, , | Learning | July 24, 2016

(My last name, Nielsen, while common, causes my school some grievances, as they keep thinking it is Neilson. My middle name is uncommon and they can never spell that right either. We are at an airport as we are going on a field trip.)

Airport Attendant: “Sorry, but we don’t have a Mr. Niel-sen on this flight.”

Me: “Is there a Mr. Neilson?”

Airport Attendant: “Yes, but different middle name, there is no ‘g’ in it.”

Me: *turning to my homeroom teacher* “Odd as this may sound, could you please tell me how to spell my name?”

Teacher: *spells my first name without a flaw and my middle name without the ‘g’* “N-e-i-l-s-o-n.”

Me: *back at the airport attendant* “I probably didn’t order the ticket, so if there is any issues here we can at least agree I am not the one who doesn’t know how to spell my name?”

(They let me go on the trip, though they shouldn’t have.)