Who Just Came Into the Hotel?

Three young, very stylish diplomats from Burkina Faso check in around midnight. One of them is wearing a columbia blue blazer with matching pinstripe shirt. very slick. All three of them are exceptionally good looking. They work at the UN. I'm going to ask them how old they are. I wonder which one my dad would think is better, diplomat or hospitality industry blogger?

One of the guys was really nice. His name was Winfred. I talked to him a little bit about Burkino Fasan history (pretty much just about how it used to be called Upper Volta), and he told me that Burkina Faso means "Land of Honest People." I really liked that a lot. He gave me several hundred dollars in cash to pay for the room, and when the count was right he said to me, "See? Honest people!"

When they came back down from their room, Winfred asked me for my name, which he wrote down on a card, so he's either going to say good things about me or complain that I'm a colonialist. The man in the dapper jacket, who's a dead ringer for a young Avon Barksdale, totally called me out on how I speak English weird to foreigners. I tend to do a lot of shrugging and head-cocking and even a little momentarily closing my eyes and jutting out my jaw to mull things when I'm talking in my pan-accented English. Avon leaned over the counter and, a little mischievously, a little menacingly, demanded, "Why you talk like that?!?"

Also, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit from drinking too much Sunkist too fast (A liter in about half an hour).