Why Does Your Money Smell Like Maple Syrup?


At midnight, a man walked in and immediately started talking. “You guys take cash?”
“Yes, but I need a credit card to put on file for incidentals.”
“I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but I don’t give anyone my credit card unless I need it for an emergency.”
“I see. It is standard for hotels to put credit cards on file. You can always pay cash, and we won’t charge the card. But the card is necessary.”
“The legal tender is necessary. I will pay to use the bed with cash, but I don’t have to give anyone my credit card. That’s my personal finances, you would have access to.”
“I can only charge you for what you pay for, but if you want to pay cash, we can do that. I only need the credit card for incidentals.”
“What kind of incidentals?”
“If a guest damages anything in the room, or smokes in the room, we have to be able to charge them for it.”
“I’ll just pay for a smoking room.”
“This is a non-smoking building. I will need you to step outside for that.”
“You know, when people are staying in hotels, it’s supposed to be like an extension of their own home. If a person pays for a room, then that room is their home, and they have the same rights to the same comforts that they would have in their own homes.”
“This is a hotel where lots of people come and go. Cigarettes stink, and that is an odor that is difficult to remove. Some people don’t want to sleep in a room that smells like someones old, nasty cigarettes. Some people are allergic to it. Don’t you care about the children?”
“I hate kids… Listen. I will pay you cash, right now. I will pay for the full night, right now.”
“If you want to pay now, you can.”
“Great. This is the kind of shit that happens when two people talk shit out…”
“I still need a credit card for incidentals.”
“You know, I could go on the internet to get my room, and bypass you all together. Computers are going to take away your job.”
“That is correct. You could do that, but you would have to pay using a credit card.”
The man pulled cash out of his pocket, and slapped it on the counter. “Do you see this? This is cash. This is what The Man uses to get his way, and if works for Big Brother, it will work for me…”
“That’s Canadian.”
“It’s money, my friend.”
“We don’t accept Canadian cash. You will have to pay with American money, or just use your credit card.”
“I know you’re screwing with me. This same hotel in Watertown takes Canadian money.”
“Clearly, this property does not exist in two places at once… Unless we are talking about other dimensions, or something… There’s a cat in the box, it’s currently both dead and alive at the same time. Only when you open the box, will the dead cat, and living cat split, to exist in their separate universes, never to interact again… Watertown is on the border. They take Canadian currency. We are in Syracuse. In Syracuse, we use American currency.”
“Do you know what your problem is?”
“Diverticulitis. I can’t eat raspberries anymore. I frigging love raspberries.”
“What the hell?”
“Eat more fiber. Your colon will thank you.”
“Just give me your cheapest room.” He held the cash in front of me.”
“Is that maple syrup I smell? Does your money smell like maple syrup? It that a thing?”
The man took a slow, deep breath. He looked at me during a short pause. Then, he handed me his credit card.
“Why do people always say that?”
“The nose, knows… I’m giving you the no-walk-rate, of $89.00”
“What the heck is the no-walk-rate?”
“It’s $89.00”
“No, not the price. I mean the rate title.”
“It means you can’t use your feet while you’re in the building… Just kidding! It is just a stupid thing we call our lowest rate.” I sniffed his credit card.
“What the heck did you just do that for?”
“I was curious if is also smelled like maple syrup.”
The dumbfounded expression on his face was priceless. I set him up with a room, thanked him, and sent him on his way.

maplesyrup

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