I shouldn’t make fun. Blame it on the jet lag.
You can parody and make fun of almost anything, but that does not turn the universe into a caricature.
I arrived this morning at Heathrow shortly after 7:00am, a little jet lagged but none the worse for wear. By sometime after 9:00am, I had made my way to Bristol and settled into my hotel.
The receptionist, motivated perhaps in part by a desire to say something positive after having to inform me that my rate does not include breakfast, pointed out explicitly that the tea and coffee in my room was complimentary.
Coffee, I thought, as I stumbled blearly towards the lifts, that does sound good.
Once inside my room, I proceeded to setup the kettle and began digging through the little packets of tea, “non dairy whitener” and assorted beverages. Hidden among the dozen or so packets promising some strange beverage labelled “De-Cafe Coffee,” I found the packet I wanted: regular, normal, good old, caffeinated coffee. Instant, but beggers can’t be choosers.
I opened the packet and poured it into my cup. Words fail me.
The tea was very nice, thank you.