Bonjour! Welcome to Paris! Are you checking in?
Yes! I mean, “Oui”! My nom es Aarons.
(frantic typing on hotel computer) Ah, I see you right here. Wan day, yes? Wan day?
Excusey? One day? No, no, not one day, I’m here for five days. Cinco days. Wait, wait, “cinco” is Spanish, isn’t it? And you’re French, so let me think…un, deux, trois…ah, CINQ! Cinq du jours! I’m here cinq du jours!
Oui. Alors…Wan day?
No, not ONE DAY! Shit! Sorry. Merde! It’s five! It should be right there in la computer. Five days! Can you check again, por favor? Do some more la typing? Le click-click?
(more frantic typing) Bien. Wan day Aarons.
No, not one day! Je suis in Paris por five days! Can’t you just add more days? Please?
Je ne sais pas. We are booked.
I am le screwed! I’m up le merde creek! What am I going to do? Where am I going to stay now? Should I call the American embassy? The Texas embassy? Is there a youth hostel nearby? And if so, what’s the age limit at those places? Is it 30? I can pass for 30, don’t you think? Well, maybe not now after my 45 hour flight, but usually I can if the lighting is low and my hair’s over my face like this. See? Hair curtain. You can hardly see my age—wait! Starbucks! I bet the people at Starbucks can help me! Is there one of those around? Cause those baristas always know how to take care of business. They get shit done, man. I think it’s part of their coffee training, actually. Right after their frothing lessons and…
Excuse me, Wan day?
You are Wan Day Aarons?
Yes. Oh. Wait. Is “Wan day” actually “Wendi”? Is THAT what you’ve been saying all this time? Not “one day”? Ha! I’m sorry I didn’t understand you. But I guess that means I’m actually in the hotel for five days, right?
So, that’s great, isn’t it?
Well, then. Merci.