When you give the functionally retarded a credit card and drivers license.

Here is what you have to understand is *really* fucking annoying about this. Each question, or two is a phone call. This is not one conversation, but *several*.

FR: "Do you have menus to order out?"
Me: Yes we do.

FR: "Do any of these places deliver fish?"
Me: Not that I know of? Sorry. (Do you know a fish take out place that delivers?)

FR: "Where are the menus? Can I send my son down?"
Me: Lobby, and... yes?

FR: "How do I make an order?"
Me: ... You dial 9 for an outside line, then call the pizza place. Like when you are at home...

FR: "Where's this at?"
Me: Where what?
FR: "Where is this pizza place at?"
Me: ...Which one are you calling?
FR: "Nevermind!"

FR: "When I dial 9, I get a busy signal."
Me: Oh, that means you paid cash at checkin, and I can turn the phone on for..
FR: "Nevermind! I'll use my cell."

FR: "What's the name of this hotel?"
Me: ...*FACEPALM*

Oh my GOD! WHO LET YOU OUT OF THE HOSPITAL? SERIOUSLY, A VILLAGE IS MISSING AN IDIOT!