Breakfast

Breakfast should be easy enough. That's why hotels have room service: you pick your breakfast, phone it down and while you're busy shaving, they deliver it. You just need to be quick. He had noted the previous evening that the staff seemed to leave the meal outside the door. He had a sneaking suspicion that if you weren't quick, someone either pinched your meal or small boys spat on it.

He grabbed the in-room menu and plunked himself down on his bed. He quickly scanned the options. He needed something quick and easy. Although his habit was to have Belgium waffles when away, he thought he should try something less sticky. At the bottom, he found the basics - like toast and cereal. He thought he should be healthy and have orange juice as well. His eyes skipped over into the column in which the prices were listed. He opened his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. "They want $5 for orange juice!" Then he noticed the small print. He made it a habit to always read the small print. It was where companies put the information they didn't actually want you to know. On top of his $5 for orange juice, he would have to pay a tax and a fixed delivery and gratuity fee. He did some quick mental math. The orange juice alone would cost in the range of $9. He almost phoned to find out if the kitchen juiced the oranges to order. Maybe they would let him pick the type of orange they used. Then he realised that other than Naval and Juice, he wasn't aware of any other types. Seville! Oh, that was for marmalade and cleaning brass. Clearly not to be drunk . . . .

He sighed. While it was useful to be fully prepared, it was boring. He started to rummage in his suitcase. After a quick search, he located what he was looking for: a single serving of instant oatmeal in its envelope. He took the carafe from the coffee maker and headed to the bathroom. He had noted with pleasure that the hotel provided take-away disposable cups so that he could take tea to his first meeting. The water started to drip into the china mug and when he thought it had reached 3/4 of a cup, he took a deep breath, removed the cup and switched it for the disposable cup. Phew, minimal puddle. He dumped the oatmeal into the china cup, and added a tea bag to the disposable cup.

A short time later, he was dressed. He had downed his oatmeal, and brushed his teeth. He grabbed his writing folder, his name tag, the day's schedule and his tea. Opening the door, he took a deep breath. He uttered a quick prayer the sessions would be interested and strode towards the elevator.