Miscommunication

         Perspiring and panting, Will pushed through a throng of people. Squinting, he noticed what he sought across the airport concourse. It was about time. This building of bright lights and constant murmuring was huge. Inhaling deeply, he bee-lined to a desk manned by a stern-faced woman. Fidgeting, he waited for her to look up and acknowledge his presence. She ignored him, and shuffled papers.

         "Ahem," Will cleared his throat. Finally, meeting his gaze, she stared. "Are you Hung Low?" "Huh, what?" stammered a blushing Will. The question was repeated. "Are you Hung Low?" Quickly glancing around, Will hissed, "That is none of your business! Wait, do I look Chinese?"

         "I'm sure I don't know what you look like sir. Do you have a problem I can resolve?" Nodding, Will gestured for her to lean forward. "Will Nought change my seat." Frowning, the clerk asked, "Will not what now, sir?" "Didn't you hear me? Will Nought." Rising, the ticket agent crossed her arms. " No one will force you, sir. Neither will I." 171 words