Chris Manion's account of how he got his banjo strings at the Mexican custom's house reminds me of a situation I once faced in Seattle five years ago. I was attending a conference there and had been bumped at BWI Airport, which meant that my car reservation was canceled because I was not at the car rental office at the appointed time.
The woman behind the counter was sympathetic to me, but she told me that it might be three hours before another car was available. Since I had brought my violin on the trip (a brand new one that I was anxious to try out), I told her that I did not mind waiting. While I was at the office, I told her, I would just practice my violin. However, I added, "I cannot assure you that all of the notes that I hit will be on pitch."
She suddenly remembered that she could have a car ready in five minutes. True story.