My coffee cartel was exposed this morning. You see, I’ve been using the hotel down the street as my own personal Starbucks for years. A few times a week I would enter the property through a guest entrance, take the elevator to the lobby, and grab a complimentary cup of coffee and a USA Today.
And three times a week I will require a cannoli.
But this morning the manager noticed a golf shirt I was wearing from a course in Las Vegas, and started a conversation about how he once played there. Unless I somehow convince him that I’m Howard Hughes, I’m going to keep it on the DL for a while.
I devised a similar plan to get a free continental breakfast last Sunday. I set out on foot and stopped at the same hotel since I was familiar with the surroundings. They offered a pretty nice spread, but charged for the buffet. I walked a half-mile or so to the next one – same story. I tried yet another, but the only food they offered came in a vending machine.
I had walked over two miles in search of a free meal, without success, and finally decided to get breakfast the old-fashioned way – I went to McDonalds. But I had forgotten that I don’t carry my wallet during these excursions. If I’m ever asked to identify myself by the po po, I will be known only as “Crowe Dog.”
When I got home, I jumped into the car, drove to the store, and bought a 12-pack. My breakfast ended up being a few potato chips and an InBev Light.
– Janers shot this video of a guy sitting next to her in a coffee shop in NYC.
I’m a loser, what a joker. I’m playing my jokes upon you.