The room’s atmosphere shifted almost instantly the moment the farmer uttered those words. A hushed silence fell over the lobby, and the receptionist paused mid-stride, her curiosity piqued despite herself. The farmer’s voice, steady and sure, resonated throughout the room, capturing the attention of everyone present.
He continued speaking into the phone, his tone becoming more familiar, as though he were speaking with an acquaintance. There was a subtle but clear air of confidence and assurance in his demeanor. It was as if the simple act of holding the phone had transformed him from a humble farmer into someone with a quiet authority, someone who commanded respect merely by standing there.
“Yes, yes, I’m at the front desk right now,” he said. “Could you please confirm my reservation? Yes, that’s right. The executive suite.”
