Mike Hunt sighed as he sat on the uncomfortable airport bench, staring up at the departures board. His flight had been delayed for the third time, and he was starting to lose patience. As he sat there, fuming and tapping his foot, he suddenly heard his name being called over the intercom.
“Mike Hunt, please come to the information desk. Mike Hunt, please come to the information desk,” the robotic voice droned on.
Mike groaned and stood up, grabbing his carry-on bag. He must have left something at the security checkpoint, he thought to himself as he made his way over to the desk.
But as he approached, the woman behind the desk gave him a puzzled look. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked.
“Yes, my name was just called over the intercom. I’m Mike Hunt,” he said, feeling a little embarrassed.
The woman’s expression cleared as she realized the misunderstanding. “Oh, I see. No, sir, your name was not called. I’m sorry for the confusion,” she said, trying to stifle a laugh.
Mike’s face turned red with embarrassment as he realized the cruel joke that had been played on him. He had always been self-conscious about his name, which was often misheard as a crude term for a female body part. He mumbled an apology and retreated back to his bench, vowing to never use that particular airport again.
