An 18-wheeler full of puppies

Last night, just after midnight, I had the most bizarre phone call of our four years at the inn.

It was a man looking for a room. Pretty standard. I asked if he was calling from the phone on the front deck. No. He was several hours away.

Yes, we have a room, I said. I told him the rate and mentioned that it included breakfast. He asked about breakfast, so I mentioned the menu for today would be eggs or French toast. He asked if we had an omelet station where he could point to the different meats and we would make the omelet right there. No, I said. We don't have an omelet station. We are one of the budget accommodations in the valley.

He asked if I could recommend somewhere that did have an omelet station. Because his wife used to cook him really good breakfasts but she isn't with him any longer. "I know the owners probably don't want you to tell me, but maybe you could while they aren't looking." I said I didn't know who had an omelet station, but he might try the inn owned by the ski resort. I mentioned that he might not find a lot of places that would answer their phone at this hour, that we answer ours only in case it is an emergency. *hint, hint*

I told him to call us when he got in and we would come give him a key. He asked if we had rooms that accepted pets. Yes, some, I said.

Good, he said, because I have an 18-wheeler carrying puppies I am driving to Maine. Maybe we could arrange a barter. I have labs, golden retrievers, Saint Bernards . . .

At this point, I began to seriously consider whether this was a prank call. But the voice didn't sound at all familiar, and it sounded too old to be teenagers.

I focused on what I thought was the critical piece of information. We don't have room for an 18-wheeler, I said. You won't be able to park it here.

It's a small 18-wheeler. It is heated and everything for the puppies. (Is that supposed to make it better? That means he'll want to run the diesel engine all night long, annoying the other rooms of guests.) I'm sorry, I said. We don't have parking for an 18-wheeler. No, I don't know anywhere nearby where you could park it.

Do you have a dog? he asked. I reiterated that we were not interested in trading lodging for a dog. I am creeping you out? he asked. No, I said, leaving unspoken but you are annoying the @#%^ out of me.

I said I was sorry, but we couldn't offer him parking, so he should probably find somewhere else to stay. Do you have a dog? he asked. "You aren't going to answer me, are you?"

And then I did what I have never before done to a guest or potential guest. I hung up.