We have a coffee thief amongst us.
Yesterday morning I awoke at 8:15 (not bad for someone with no alarm clock, eh?) and was greeted for the first time with the dismaying sight of an empty coffee urn. The breakfast table is “First come, first served,” which translates into, “Grab it before someone else does, because we ain’t filling it again.” It’s my only shot at real, filtered coffee (surprisingly, these cultured English people think powdered crap is a viable alternative) so I was doomed to spend the morning caffeine-free. I know from my recent experience with the White Trash Lemon Cleansing that: me - coffee = bitch for a day. It’s not the most pleasant equation to wake up to.
So, this morning I told my brain to rouse me at 7AM otherwise it wouldn’t get its daily injection of wake-me-up. My brain is so prompt when it's motivated.
At 7:03 I was at the first one at the breakfast table. I passed the cereal boxes and stale croissants to grab the first cup of brownish goo they pass off as coffee. The virgin cup. I clomped back upstairs to my room and spent a lovely 3 minutes drinking it. Empty so soon? Never mind. It was only ten past the time service began. Surely it was early enough to grab another round. Besides, the coffee thief might have checked out. I slipped my sweater over my pajamas and walked down for another cup of coffee.
But it was gone.
Not only was it gone, but in their thieving haste the selfish bastard hadn’t even bothered to place the carafe back in the machine. It sat smoldering in the middle of the table, mocking me with its brown ring of dregs at the bottom. I stood there, stunned. The coffee thief had struck again.
My only comfort is in the knowledge that the coffee thief’s life is a miserable, worthless, insignificant, contemptible, wretched waste of cells...because it takes a real ass to steal coffee from a hotel full of people.
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Big Brother task for the week: Choreograph and perform an exact rendition of the OK Go treadmill video. They won. There will be cookies and beer this week.
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Tomorrow, by request - “The Loonies of London”
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Goodness...I almost forgot! Today there was a little party for Nelson Mandela's 90th birthday in Hyde Park. I went down earlier just for the honor of being in the vicinity of such a great man. The juxtaposition between the sacrifices he made to fight for the rights of Man and the selfishness of a hostile regime bullying its people during the election in Zimbabwe today seem poetic in its disparity. However, it started raining as soon as I got off the bus so I didn't stay long.
I admire that man, but my camera was getting wet. Sorry, Nellie. Maybe I'll see you on your 100th.
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6 comments:
First, take a cup of coffee for yourself. Next, poor a box of rat poison into the coffee.
Baddabing baddaboom problem solved.
You are so evil.
I taught you well.
Note to self: When traveling to Europe, pack a portable coffee maker and vacu-packed grounds.
Heathens.
Or make friends with the day manager and he'll make you espresso for free when the coffee runs out.
Personally, I'd get up and go down in my pajamas and drink all of my coffee sitting at the table and hope to catch said thief so I could give him a piece of my mind. You should know who it is by the dirty look you get or the look of guilt on their face. I'm vindictive though...
My client (with of course a prior diagnosis of "bipolar") is a caffeine junky (like, 10 pots of coffee a day equivalent) and he gets these little shots of caffeine that come in a small plastic container, the size of a diner creamer container. Each shot is equal to about 5 cups of coffee or some outstanding amount, and there is a warning label not to have more than 2 a day. Of course he drinks them continuously and then wonders why he wigs out. But, oh, yeah, he's bipolar, I forgot.
So, the point of all that above info is that it may be worth investing in some of those little shots, or just some no doze, just so you don't go poisoning people who are probably only taking one cup like you and wondering themselves who the hell is drinking all the coffee.
Or, perhaps this is the time to switch to a more enchanting drink, like Chai. There are some fabulous Indian restaurants in London, are there not? But, then you're one of those black coffee girls, aren't you?
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