What's a vacation without a bit of surealism?

It seems I only have these odd encounters when on vacation [1]. I was walking towards the lobby of the hotel as half a dozen people, probably early 20s, maybe, were walking the other way. The one in front stops, and asks me directly, “What's your first name?”

I notice he's wearing a name tag attached to a lanyard, and in large bold letters is his name: XXX.

“Sean,” I say. “I see your name is—”

“And what's your last name?” he blurts out before I can finish.

“Conner.”

“Cool! What's your middle name?”

“Patrick.”

“Thanks.” And the group starts walking down the hall.

It was then I noticed the familiar yellow of a school bus through the front door of the lobby.

[1] /boston/2018/07/05.2

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