“Panama…where is that?”
I know this kind of thing probably happens more than I think but it's still funny nonetheless. I had been corresponding with a girl online about a condo rental on the beach. We sent emails back and forth - her questions, my answers, here's the contract, etc.
Well she decides to call me to get a few questions cleared up about the contract…
Girl (sweet southern drawal): Hi! Well I have a question about the contract. What does it mean "no groups or parties"? Does that mean we have to be chaperoned? I mean we're all 18 years old.
Me: Ok, well it's not a problem as long as you all take care of the place. (I give her a brief lecture about calling me with problems, don't trash the condo, etc.)
Girl: Ok that sounds perfect! Now where are you located again?
Me: This condo is about 1.5 hours from Panama City overlooking the beach.
Girl: Well I'm trying to figure out the best way to get there because my girlfriends and I, we're going to be driving.
Me: (Thinkng Wow! Pretty cool and brave of this 18 year old girl to drive all the way to Panama). Ok, well how long have you given yourself to get here if you're going to be driving?
Girl: We live in Tennessee so it shouldn't be more than 8 hours.
Me: (Now realizing she thinks she's going to Florida) Let me explain something and don't be embarrassed because it's happened to others. You're trying to book a condo in Panama...the country of Panama.
Girl: (Loooooooooong silence. Giggle.) Huh?
Me: This is the country of Panama. You need to start your search again and look for Florida.
Girl: Where am I calling?
Me: You're trying to book a condo in the country of Panama. This is Panama, in Latin America.
Girl: (silence) Panama...where is that?
Me: It's right above…
And she hung up. I sure hope she makes it to Florida.