BRITISH GUEST: My credit card has been turned off for security purposes. Please help me ring my credit card company. (Concierge picks up phone and helps dial. While the concierge does this, the guest picks up another phone nearby.) BRITISH GUEST: I can’t hear them! CONCIERGE: Right, because I’m calling them on my line. BRITISH GUEST: No tone! CONCIERGE: I’m calling them on my phone. That’s a different line. BRITISH GUEST: Someone picked up! Hello? Hello? Operator? No! I’m trying to ring my bank! CONCIERGE: Please hang up that phone. I’m calling them on this one. BRITISH GUEST: (to phone) Yes? Hello? I need to ring my bank. The concierge can’t do it. CONCIERGE: Ma’am, your bank is on the phone here Hang that one up. BRITISH GUEST: (to phone) Let me get the number. (Concierge takes phone from her and hangs it up. Hands her his phone.) CONCIERGE: This is your bank. Type in your credit card number. BRITISH GUEST: (to phone) Hello? Is there an operator? CONCIERGE: It’s automated. Type it in. BRITISH GUEST: Type what? On your keyboard?
Can we just take a moment to appreciate that Sherlock’s performance of the songs from Frozen “rivaled - if not surpassed - the original”? And that he did it while wearing a giant purplish prom dress. The mental image alone is enough to make my night!
Some things I wish they’d show, even just as background while Joan is the focus? Like the violin burning. That was brilliant.
Ugh, there is this one post that shows up when I track my URL by some person who states they hate their mom. Why did you tag it midnight30?? Is it because you made the post at 12:30?? Anyway, it just makes me feel weird & mad because my mom died last year (as did my dad, but that’s a whole other story). I did not hate my mom at all. In fact, I loved her more than anything in this world, she was my best friend, and I miss her every single day. Just get your damn post out of my url tag!!!
A sexy mid-forties French couple approaches the desk.
GUEST: You speak French? CONCIERGE: No, I’m sorry. GUEST: (shakes head, very frustrated) No French. GUEST’S WIFE: (starts rubbing nose furiously) Concierge? No French? CONCIERGE: No, I’m sorry. GUEST: (pulls out iPhone with a screenshot of a Google Map of the entire state of New Jersey) Where is New Jersey? Bus? Metro? Taxeee? CONCIERGE: Where in New Jersey? GUEST: (Shakes head) No French. CONCIERGE: Where… in… New Jersey? GUEST: Eh? CONCIERGE: Jersey Gardens? GUEST: No. CONCIERGE: Newark? GUEST: No. CONCIERGE: Cake Boss? GUEST: Threety-three. CONCIERGE: Thirty-three? Is that an address? GUEST’S WIFE: (butts in, entire index finger up nose) NEW CHAIRSEE. GUEST: SHHH!! (shakes head) Threety-three… street. CONCIERGE: Can you write it down? GUEST: No. (shoves phone into my hands) CONCIERGE: New Jersey is a big area. You are visiting a store? Business? A friend? Family? GUEST: (swipes to another screenshot of a slightly smaller area in New Jersey) Here. We go here? CONCIERGE: Can you point? GUEST: (points to an area) Here. CONCIERGE: (Googles the name of a park near where he’s pointing) Okay, that’s easy to get to by taxi or bus. GUEST: Yes, is okay. We will get bus here? (points at an area on the river with no boats) CONCIERGE: You could take the water taxi, but it’s still far when you arrive. Better taxi or bus. GUEST: Okay, is okay. We take bus from here. (points at river) CONCIERGE: No, sir, I don’t know why you want to leave from there, the bus goes from here. (points at Port Authority) GUEST: No. No! Here! (points at river) CONCIERGE: No, from here. (points at Port Authority)
(we have a pointing war.)
GUEST: NO Port Authoritee!!! We will go from HERE!!!! CONCIERGE: Alright, sir. Can you swim? GUEST’S WIFE: (arm is fully inside of head) I have poked the language center of my brain and can now speak perfect English. A taxi is okay. Thank you!