I’m a teller at a branch of a small regional bank chain in Michigan. I get the joy of helping this middle-aged woman one day.

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Bank]! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I need to put a travel notification on my account. I’ll be traveling abroad for the first time!”

Me: “Awesome! I can help you do that.”

She verifies her account information, and I get to the point where I need to put in her travel details.

Me: “What dates will you be traveling?”

Customer: “June third to the twelfth.”

Me: “Okay, and where will you be traveling?”

Customer: “Arizona and Utah!”

Me: “Okay… wait. Umm… ma’am, can you repeat that for me, please?”

Customer: “Arizona and Utah.”

Me: *Trying to be tactful* “Ma’am, you don’t need to put in a travel notice for travel within the United States. I see that you’re signed up for text message fraud alerts, so you might have to respond to the text if the system wants to confirm a transaction on your account. Is that what you meant by a travel notification?”

Customer: “My friend told me I need to put in a travel notification before my trip so my account didn’t get locked.”

Me: “Yes, that’s true for international travel, but Arizona and Utah are both US states.”

Customer: “But we have to fly there, so it’s abroad.”

Me: “Ma’am, ‘traveling abroad’ means traveling internationally, or outside the United States. If you’re traveling to another state, it’s not ‘abroad’.”

Customer: “Hmm. I don’t know about that. My friend travels a lot, so she knows what she’s talking about. I’ll just stop in at my regular branch and get someone who knows what they’re doing to put in my travel notification.” 

I tried, folks. I really did. Hopefully, she enjoys her first trip “abroad” with her friend.

My cousin and I were traveling around Europe. We met up with a German girl who I’d hosted during her year in the US, and we ended up staying in Berlin for a couple of nights. We were traveling cheap, so we chose to go with a hostel. When we were checking in, I decided to ask the front desk clerk a few questions, but this one was the best.

Me: “Do you have a code for the front door?”

Clerk: “No.”

Me: “So, it doesn’t lock after a certain time?”

Clerk: “Yes. It locks at 11:00.”

Me: “My friends and I were hoping to go out tonight. Would we be able to get back in? Is there a key we should take?”

Clerk: “We have a night attendant who can open the door. But you should come early because he takes his nap and does not like to be disturbed.”

Me: “?!”

I’ve stayed in plenty of hostels, and they’re all pretty good. This was my first experience with a hostel that didn’t run so smoothly.

I am the bad customer in this story. My wife, a friend, and I were visiting the August 10th market (Mercado) in Cuenca Ecuador. Someone suggested that we try the yucca tortillas (which are more like what an American would call a pancake), made with yucca, cheese, and egg.

I ordered them with my extremely limited Spanish and then went to sit down while the server reheated them. This area of the Mercado was laid out like a food court, with stalls along the outside and tables along the inside.

The tortillas were very tasty. We finished them up, bused our dishes (which apparently is unusual), and wandered on down to see what else we could try.

About thirty seconds later, I felt somebody grabbing the sleeve of my jacket. I turned to see that it was our server, saying something to me in extremely rapid Spanish. I pretty much only caught “tortilla” and said that yes, we had the tortillas. Another torrent of Spanish ensued, and a customer sitting nearby said:

Customer: “You no pay.”

Fortunately, there were two Spanish phrases that I had learned specifically for situations like this.

Me: “Oh, lo siento. Yo soy idiota.” *Oh, I am sorry. I am an idiot.*

The grand total was less than three dollars, so I gave him three dollars and tried to tell him to keep the change, which just confused him. He chased after us again to give me my change.

I work as a concierge at a hotel in a Spanish town. A customer who has been a bit of a problem these last few days approaches me.

Guest: “We’re going to a restaurant on Calle Street. Give us directions?”

Me: “Can you tell me the name of the restaurant?”

Guest: “That’s none of your business! I just need directions to Calle Street!”

Me: “It’s just that ‘calle’ is Spanish for ‘street’, so you’re effectively asking me for directions to Street Street.”

Guest: “Well, it’s not my fault that your country has silly names for everything!”

Related:
Totally Estúpido! Part 29
Totally Estúpido! Part 28
Totally Estúpido! Part 27
Totally Estúpido! Part 26
Totally Estúpido! Part 25

I provide safari tours in a huge wildlife park in rural South Africa. We drive a truck around what is essentially wilderness (albeit protected) and showcase the many animals we have on the safari.

We come across a small herd of giraffes, and we stop to allow the tourists to take photos. One tourist has taken some on her phone.

Tourist: “Can I get a selfie with them?”

Me: “They’re wild animals.”

Tourist: “So… I…?”

Me: “Can’t. No, you can’t.”

Tourist: “Well, I got a nice pic anyway. What’s the Wi-Fi?”

Me: “The Wi-Fi?”

Tourist: “Yeah. I wanna put this on Instagram.”

Me: “We’re in the middle of the South African wilderness.”

Tourist: “And I want to know what its Wi-Fi  is!”

Me: “We don’t have any Wi-Fi.”

Tourist: “Seriously?

Me: “Actually, we do. It’s called Can’tBelieveTheresWi-FiOnSafari.”

Tourist: “I can’t find it.”

Me: “The signal is being blocked by the giraffes.”

Tourist: “Ugh… stupid horse!”

Related:
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 16
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 15
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 14
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 13
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 12