(I am driving with a friend when her car begins to have trouble. We manage to get it to the shop, but it will be several days before her car can be repaired. Not wanting to be stranded in a small town for several days, we walk to a nearby car rental agency. Everything is going smoothly until…)

Employee: “I just need to see a valid driver’s license.”

My Friend: “Here you go.”

(As we are both from other states, my friend has just handed the rental agent her Maryland driver’s license.)

Employee: “I’m sorry. I can’t accept this. I need to see a Georgia driver’s license.”

My Friend:  ”Are you serious? I’m not from Georgia. I don’t have a Georgia driver’s license.”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but that’s corporate policy. I can’t rent you a car unless you have an in-state ID.”

My Friend: “But I’ve rented cars from you at other locations in the past, and I’ve used my out-of-state license, and it has never been an issue before. Are you seriously telling me that you can’t rent me a vehicle because I’m from another state?”

Employee: “Sorry, but unless you have a Georgia license, I cannot rent a car to you.”

(My friend and I finally give up and call another friend who happens to be living in a town about an hour away to come and pick us up, which she is happy to do. As we are waiting for our ride…)

Me: “I can’t believe that they wouldn’t rent you a car because you have an out-of-state license! Isn’t that what a car rental agency is for? Who do they usually rent cars to?”

Related:
Out Of State, Out Of Mind, Part 3
Out Of State, Out Of Mind, Part 2
Out Of State, Out Of Mind

(My husband and I have just moved from Missouri to Florida. We both have a slight country accent, but nothing too distinct.)

Employee: “Hey there, did you all find everything today?”

My Husband: “Yep, found everything today.”

Employee: “Ooo, an accent. Where are you guys from?”

Me: “We just moved here from Missouri.”

Employee: “Oh, that’s cool.”

(She continues to make small talk with us as she rings out our items and takes our payment. She hands me my change and receipt.)

Employee: “I got to say, you both speak English really well.”

Me: “…Um, yeah. Thanks, I think. Not sure why I wouldn’t, though.”

Employee: “Well, I know that English is a hard language to learn. That’s why most foreigners don’t bother to learn it, but I’m glad you all did; it’ll make life easier for you. Welcome to America, by the way. Hope you enjoy your stay!”

(I have just moved to Colorado from Massachusetts and am buying a book at a national chain. My rewards card is therefore still under my Massachusetts address.)

Clerk: “Could I have your zip code?”

Me: “01463.”

Clerk: “No. Your ZIP CODE. As in 8-0-something-something-something.”

Me: “01463″

Clerk: “That isn’t a Colorado zip code!”

Me: “Correct, it’s a Massachusetts zip code. It’s my home zip code and it’s the zip code I have my rewards card under, seeing as I just moved to Colorado this week.”

Clerk: “Fine! But it won’t work!”

Me: “Just try it!”

(It worked.)

(I am from New Mexico and am on vacation on the East Coast. I’ve just ordered at a fast food restaurant and am paying with my credit card.)

Cashier: “Uh, I’m going to have to see some ID.”

(I show the cashier my New Mexico driver’s license.)

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but we can’t take foreign forms of identification.”

Me: “Wait, excuse me?”

Cashier: “We can’t take it; it’s foreign. Do you have another form of payment?”

Me: “I’m from New Mexico.”

Cashier: “Right. And I’m honestly surprised your English is so good.”

Me: “New Mexico is a state. Part of the United States.”

Cashier: “No, it’s not!”

Me: “Yes, it is. The 47th state to be precise. It joined the Union in 1912.”

Cashier: “I think you just made that up.”

Me: “Can I please talk to your manager?”

(Thankfully, the manager is a more knowledgeable than the cashier; he sends her to the back and gives me a discounted meal for my trouble.)

(Working late at school, my friends and I decide to order some food to be delivered around 3 am. I get the following call from the delivery man.)

Delivery Man: “Hello? [Restaurant] here. I’m waiting with your food at the corner of 15th Street.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t see you. What corner did you say you were at?”

Delivery Man: “15th.”

Me: “I’m right here at 15th and [street]. That’s the address that I gave when I placed the order online. I’m the dude in the blue sweatshirt.”

Delivery Man: “That’s impossible; there’s nobody here. I’m looking at the sign, and it says 15th street. Are you messing with me?”

Me: “Do you also see a sign for [street]? The address I gave was the corner of 15th and [street].”

Delivery Man: “I’m at the corner of 15th.”

Me: “15th and what?”

Delivery Man: “Uh, [street 10 blocks away].”

Me: “What? That’s not right! Why’d you go there with my food?”

Delivery Man: “It was the closest 15th street intersection to the restaurant!”