It was a stressful week and a stressful morning, but admittedly, all first-world problems. I was on vacation with my wife and oldest son. The hotel shuttle was gone, so I ordered an Uber to go about 2 miles.

For some reason, the pick-up location was a little ways away from where we were, so we decided to walk about a half a block. Turns out, the pick up spot was a little further still. The app indicated the driver had arrived. I called to try to get her to come pick us up where we were. She didn’t answer. It took about five calls before she answered. She was obviously not from the States. Her English was not good.

We were standing on the corner of an intersection right in front of a Krispy Kreme. The conversation went like this:

Me: “Can you pick us up in front of the Krispy Kreme?”

Driver: “Ok, I go to hotel.”

Me: “No. Krispy Kreme. Do you know where the Krispy Kreme is?”

Driver: “Ok. I am at [says original address.].”

Me: “No!! KRISPY KREME. Do you know where the Krispy Kreme is?”

Driver: “Ok. I go to hotel.”

Note: At this point, I lose my cool and raise my voice.

Me:”NO!!! DO. YOU. KNOW. WHERE. THE. KRISPY. KREME. IS?”

Driver: “Ok, I close. I come.”

And she did finally did come to the Krispy Kreme. This is how the ride went after we got in the car.

Driver: “Where are you from?”

Me: “Utah”

Driver (excitedly): “Are you Mormon?”

Me (sheepishly): “Yes, but not a very good one.”

Driver (even more excitedly): “I Mormon too.”

Me (silently to myself): “heaven help me.”

Driver: “I work, save money to go to temple in Salt Lake City.”

Me (silently to myself): “The Telestial Kingdom is too good for me.”

At that point my wife and son were laughing so hard inside at me they looked like they were going to come apart. We then discussed how she left Venezuela and came to start a new life in America. The guilt ran deep. Very deep. Needless to say, she got a big tip.