So I'm in New Jersey this week. Got to my hotel room and saw a little box with an envelope next to it on the desk. I looked at the envelope, and it was addressed to Mr. H---- Goodman. Of course, I read the letter in the envelope. The letter says something about how happy the hotel is to have Mr. Goodman return, and how they appreciate his business. Then something about how the box is a show of their gratitude. Without hesitation, I open up the box. Jelly Bellies!!! Well, it's my room now, and I'm paying, uh, nothing for it, since it's a business trip, but SOMEONE is paying for me to be in this room, so dammit, I deserve these Jelly Bellies!

Of course, when I called down for my wakeup call, I had to be honest and say that there was a letter here for Mr. Goodman. The front desk then told me to tear it up. I didn't mention the Jelly Bellies, though.

My trip here was ok. We got here 20 minutes early, and when I got in, I didn't spot my driver waiting for me at baggage claim. There's something weird about saying 'driver'. But the company I'm working for this week got me a driver to pick me up from the airport. It's cool, because you get to see your name hastily written on those cardboard tents as you come down the escalator, but when you're not there, the anxiety strikes in. 'Do I have to get a cab?' 'Do I even know where I'm going?' 'Is he ever coming?' Fortunately, I saw him come in a little late, which was actually right on time. It was a nice, comfy ride all the way to hotel.

So here I am, surfing the 'net and chewing on my Jelly Bellies, though it's been a while since I've had Jelly Bellies, so I keep on picking the crappy flavors. I forget everything else except for the buttered popcorn ones, which, of course, were the first to go.

All thanks to Mr. Goodman.

Posted by Yano at June 27, 2004 09:47 PM

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