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Last year, waiting to check in at an unremarkable chain hotel in Caldwell, ID, a couple with thick South London accents were ahead of me in line. After they had completed the formalities and been given their room entry cards, one of them asked the lady behind the desk: "Oh, errr ... we're outta fags. Do you know where we can get some fags round 'ere?" She looked totally bewildered. I couldn't resist adding to the fun, and so replied, "You should find plenty in the 7-11 just across the street." They thanked me and made a beeline for the front door. The check-in clerk then asked me, "I'm sorry, but is there anything, like, gay about 7-11?" At that point I explained, resulting in a nervous giggle.
I hope the couple needing their tobacco fix realized that smoking was almost certainly not allowed in their hotel room, but that was their problem, not mine.
I hope the couple needing their tobacco fix realized that smoking was almost certainly not allowed in their hotel room, but that was their problem, not mine.
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