Wednesday morning, 3 AM. The phone beeps.
Hotel Desk Clerk: “[yawn!] Front desk. How may I help you?”
Hotel Guest: “You can help me by sending someone up here and taking this sign out of my room.”
HDC: “Sir?”
HG: “You heard me. I want this sign gone! I will not accept any responsibility for it!”
HDC: “I’m sorry, sir. May I know which sign is disturbing you?”
HG: “The one that says my room is non-smoking, and I pay if smoking occurs!”
HDC: “That is our policy, sir. If you smoke in a non-smoking room …”
HG: “I, sir, do not smoke. Disgusting habit. What about the room?!”
HDC: ” … whut?”
HG: “You tell me that my room does not smoke. How do I know this? Nowhere in this miserable excuse for a bedchamber do I find so much as a character reference for it, never mind a certified drug test! What assurance do I have that this miscreant cell won’t light up a cigar if I plug in the coffeepot, won’t toke a joint if I try to charge my phone? And must I mention the microwave?? I will not take the fall for the delinquency of this domicile, mister, and I seriously resent the implication that I have to! I want the sign gone!”
HDC: “Sir?”
HG: “What?!?”
HDC: “What have you been smoking? … hello? … hello?”
Come home where we understand you. You’re scaring people there.