The Case of the Chrono-Confused Tourist

Bernard "Bernie" Bartholomew prided himself on being a meticulous planner. Every vacation was meticulously researched, his itinerary color-coded and laminated. Yet, here he stood, blinking in the harsh sunlight, toga awkwardly draped across his shoulders, a selfie stick clutched in his sweaty palm.

Apparently, meticulous planning didn't account for accidentally activating a time travel device disguised as a dusty sundial in the far corner of the Colosseum gift shop. One overly enthusiastic selfie later, Bernie found himself transported from the familiar hum of the gift shop to the roaring cheers of a Roman crowd.

"By Jupiter's beard!" a nearby man in a toga exclaimed, eyeing Bernie's Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. "What manner of barbarian art is that on your... lower garment?"

Bernie, ever the optimist, decided a smile and a friendly "Aloha!" were his best bet. The response was a collective scowl from the crowd. Time for a new strategy.

Remembering his trusty phrasebook, Bernie attempted, "Greetings, fellow Romans! I come in peace!"

The pronunciation was atrocious, but the sentiment seemed to soften a few faces. He pointed at his selfie stick with a hopeful grin. "Photo? Memories?"

A confused silence followed. Finally, a young girl hesitantly stepped forward. "That... instrument," she pointed at the selfie stick, "is most curious. May I examine it?"

Bernie, relieved to find someone seemingly unfazed by his modern attire, readily handed it over. The girl, her name was Claudia, poked and prodded at it, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly, the stick whirred to life, the screen flickering with images of the Colosseum as it would be centuries later, filled with tourists and souvenir stands. Claudia gasped, then turned to Bernie with wide eyes. "This device... it shows the future!"

News of the time-traveling tourist spread like wildfire. Soon, Bernie found himself summoned before the Emperor himself, a surprisingly young man with a penchant for chunky gold jewelry.

"You, traveler from the future," boomed the Emperor, "tell me, what wonders await my glorious empire?"

Bernie, never one for history lessons beyond the dates on his laminated itinerary, panicked. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Gladiatorial combat... with jetpacks!"

The Emperor's eyes lit up. "Jetpacks, you say? This changes everything!"

Thus began Bernie's accidental reign as the Emperor's chief advisor on "future warfare." Days turned into weeks as Bernie, fueled by a constant supply of grapes and toga-wearing groupies, spouted off nonsensical inventions like "laser chariots" and "pizza catapults."

Surprisingly, the Romans seemed to eat it all up. The Colosseum was redesigned with launchpads for the jetpack gladiators, and bakers experimented with cheese-topped flatbreads (though the concept of tomatoes remained a bridge too far).

One evening, as Bernie sat on his surprisingly comfortable pile of cushions, watching a toga fashion show (apparently, stripes were the new "in" thing), a pang of guilt hit him. He missed his hotel room, his carefully planned itinerary, and most importantly, a decent cheeseburger.

He snuck back to the sundial, hoping for a reversal of his fortunes. With a blinding flash, Bernie was back in the dusty corner of the gift shop, selfie stick clutched firmly in hand.

The gift shop owner looked up, startled. "Can I help you find something, sir?"

"Uh, yeah," Bernie stammered, "maybe a map? And a good guide on Roman customs?"

Bernie left the Colosseum with a shake of his head and a renewed respect for his well-thought-out trips. Taking a deep breath, he enjoyed the comforting noises and smells of the current day. The absurdity of his journey made him laugh out loud as he strolled through the busy streets of contemporary Rome. Perhaps he could write a book about it eventually, or at least a very funny blog post. He was certain that his pals back home would never accept a different story. Furthermore, who knows? Maybe his brief career as a time-traveling counsellor had made a little, peculiar contribution to history. Bernie made the decision that perhaps, just maybe, he wouldn't plan every last aspect of his next vacation as he finally took a seat at a quaint café and ordered the largest cheeseburger available. Ultimately, the most memorable experiences frequently stem from the most unforeseen journeys.

And there, in a dusty nook of the Colosseum, lay the sundial, silently awaiting the next inquisitive traveller to snap a photo.