The Little Giant Coffee Machine

Thursday Day 6

Vegas skies always surprise. Flusher's rule.

Notices have been sent to each room at the California saying that the water would be shut off between 4:00am and 6:00am for 'emergency repairs'. So before bed, I fill up all the cups in the room, buy waterproof matches, lay out some kindling and a few small branches, and put the wipers up on my windshield.

I am ready.

It is a non-event - I never notice any lack of water upon arising. On top of that, the hotel water is on - but I spark the fire and make s'mores in the room anyway.

I check on the Fuck You $15 $30 a Day Tropicana Coffee Maker delivery... and there is great news! I should have it today.

Thursday, March 1

6:50 AM

Out for delivery

Las Vegas, NV US

5:57 AM

Package arrived at a carrier facility

Las Vegas, NV US

1:16 AM

I keep getting it wrong -as if $15 a day for the use of a coffee maker isn't too outrageous, the Trop baffles me by charging $30 a day.

They have the brew balls to say 'subject to availability'. I'm sure patrons are crawling over each other to pay $30 a day for a rental coffee-maker that was last used by some frat boy to make oatmeal in.

I send a text Norbert to tell him that they've found the shipment of annoying, menacing Veeblefetzer grommet keychains and that I'm headed to the airport to get them. He falls for it - now I can take delivery of the Little Giant, and spend my morning having a leisurely breakfast and drinklegambling.

Feeling pretty chuffed, I head down to the coffee shop to get breakfast, and once again, the dilemma raises its ugly head. Should I skip the line pretending to still be Emerald? There are so many justifications I can logically make as to why I should, and only one reason why not. Because it's wrong.

But sometimes, you just have to say 'what the fuck', especially when your business is risk. I eye the 'Emerald Cardholders and VIPs' alley, flanked by a dozen or so wanna-be diners in the 'loser' alley (where I actually belong). I think of another justification - I could actually be a VIP, if someone in the Cal thinks I am. Who's to judge who is important and who is very important?

As I walk down the VIP alley, the usual, friendly morning hostess leaves the podium to seat some losers from the loser line, leading them to their loser table where they will eat their loser breakfasts. I stand confident, and hungry. She should be back in a very short time.

And then, I catch a whiff of something - the stank of 'boss' - and sure enough, the guy that has that 'boss' look and stank about him, marches up to the podium, picking up menus. The reason he has that 'boss' look and stank is because, as I learned yesterday, he is the boss.

Shit! I try to just stay cool and bluff my way through this. The fact is, I've never really pretended to be Emerald - I just let people remember me as having been Emerald and assuming that I still am. When I have the Gold Card I flash that, and it's just as good. But this time it's a dust bowl sharecropper meal book.

"How many?" he asks, and looks at me. Straight at me.

"One."

I muster an insincere smile, like I am Emerald, like I eat, breathe and crap Emerald all the live long fucking day.

Then Mr. Boss Stank-looking Boss, eyebrows raised, asks, "Emerald?..."

Oh shit. Ohhhhhhh shit. This is the moment where I either bluff my way through or completely die in embarrassment. And it is also the moment where I will have to tell a bald-faced lie. Everything is in slow motion as my fabulous brainputer crackles through a million scenarios, a million things that I might say instead of lying, evaluating them all. I decide that if this goes badly I'll just plead ignorance, that I didn't see the sign, that I misheard him, that I am drunk. He'll believe one of those, won't he?

I reach for my shirt pocket, fingertips touching the long-expired Emerald card that crouches there, waiting to pounce on the truth like a six-year-old on an Easter Peep. I lift it a little bit, just enough so that the color green can be seen, and drop it back again.

"Yes, Emerald," I say, and my innocence is gone. Mr. Boss Stank-looking Boss leads the way and I feel as though I am crossing the threshold into coffee shop purgatory. But, ever the optimist, I reflect that purgatory makes a mean omelette. I look back at the forlorn loser line and give them the shaka sign.

---

An omelette and hash browns hits the spot - and I wonder if this is my last real breakfast, because I will be able to make Torment Oatmeal for the rest of the trip if the Little Giant arrives as promised.

The next update from Amazon is the one I've been waiting for. It's here! The Little Giant has been delivered!

Thursday, March 1

10:52 AM

Delivered

I head to the lobby and I'll cut to the chase - I have to ask two different people, and a third one twice to confirm that there is a delivery for me. No fault of the Cal though - the box has just arrived at Shipping and they haven't processed it yet. In fact, one of the bell staff goes back personally to ask around and comes back with a box with my name on it!!!

Oh, and the box is light! So very light! If this machine is as compact as it is light, it will be the perfect travel coffee gizmo. I head to the room and perform a ritual unboxing.

She's a beauty! I love the Little Giant Coffee Machine already!!! And there are so, so many features to this simple, but complex piece of coffee art.

Features of the Little Giant Coffee Machine

• drips hot water through coffee grounds to make coffee
• convenient, short power cord for powering the machine
• 'push to start' technology brew button with automatic power shut-off
• coffee brew indicator light - turns off automatically when power is shut off
• reusable grounds basket can hold any brand of ground coffee
• auto-swing water drip arm mechanism - just close the water receptacle lid and the drip arm is automatically positioned over the coffee basket. No more infinite hot water loops!
• conveniently placed water receptacle
• water receptacle lid
• clip-on base extender to support larger cups
• high-powered machine is no taller than a Keno brochure
• 'multi-select' coffee-making program - use the machine once for one cup. Use it a second time to make coffee for a guest. Use it a third time for a third cup. The possibilities are endless!
• suitable for making hot water for Torment Oatmeal breakfasts

I finally have cheap in-room coffee. I'm so looking forward to not paying the Tropicana $30 a day for an in-room coffee maker rental.

Thirty-dollar coffee doesn't mean a hell of a lot
Thirty-dollar coffee doesn't mean a thing
But give it to me every hour, forty hours every week
That's enough for me to be a coffee-drinking king!

I can't wait to start diluting the cost of in-room coffee and brew a cup immediately, after running the machine through a couple of cycles to get rid of the taste of Chinese pesticides and industrial solvents it no doubt carries.

My first cup is great and costs me $13.50. The next cup will drive the per-cup price down to $6.75 in depreciable hardware costs, plus $0.50 for the fake k-cup. How did I use a k-cup thingy? Simple, I peeled that sucker open and dumped the grounds into the Little Giant.

After just six uses, the per-cup cost will be only $2.46. After just ninety uses, the per-cup cost will be $0.64. If I can find a place to steal acquire coffee grounds, the per cup price will be 14 and a half cents.

OK, enough rambling about the goddamned coffee maker. It's time to play.