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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required At the Oakland Airport Hilton Inn, I was working the evening shift, from 3 to 11 p.m. behind the front desk on a Saturday at 8 p.m. Three Canadian boys, one younger than the other two, shared a Junior Suite that connects to two bedrooms on either side, each with two queen beds. Two Canadian Undercover Secret Servicemen were in the other connecting bedroom, as the younger boy was the son of the Canadian Prime Minister, Pierre Trudeau, 10-year-old Justin Trudeau, who’ll be the future Prime Minister of Canada. He is on our VIP list, and now he has gone and stood at the Cashier Stand at the opposite side of the front desk counter, where I went to assist him. He asked me, “Do you accept this Canadian five-dollar bill for American quarters?” The Canadian dollar is one of several foreign currencies for which we have an exchange rate of seventy-three cents to the Canadian dollar. Although it didn’t break even, I gave it to him at seventy-five cents instead. I personally covered the difference, a loss of a few pennies, of which I had notified the young Justin of my neighborly gesture. The three boys were attending The Day on the Green Concert—an event where various bands perform nearby at the Oakland Coliseum. The boys were hoping to bump into Michael Jackson, who performed there, but he took a side entrance, bypassing the lobby altogether. The boys were taking turns playing Galaga and Asteroids on the gaming tables that were set up in the lobby. I had notified the Canadian secret servicemen who shortly joined us in the lobby. They sat at a nearby table, busted out a deck of cards, and began playing among themselves. The lobby gift shop was closing, nearing 8:30 p.m. Young Justin came with cash from his friends, asking for more quarters. After some time had passed, the boys called it a night, and they all left, leaving the comfortably air-conditioned lobby to me.
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