The Liberation Of Father Mortimer
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Incredible ChangesChapter 56: Killing Time In DC free porn video
Shit. Paula abandoned me. What the hell am I going to do to kill time until everyone gets here from school?
My stomach answered the question in my head. I was starving. At least until I realized I had no cash. I could get room service, I hoped. I pulled up their menu on the TV and was looking it over when my tablet chirped at me.
"Kitchen used for room service here is unsanitary. ATM Card and ID in wallet give access to your special account. Security card is haunted. Use in case of extreme emergency. Eat well."
Just as I read the last bit the message went away to show the normal Android 5.0 start screen with the few games I had put on the main page so far.
How much money do I have? I did not think I had any I could get to right now.
I got my security card out of the safe, ensuring I could open the special case, and got dressed. I had no idea where to go eat, so I was going to ask when I got down stairs. I am sure they had someone working here to make suggestions. As soon as I got into the lobby I found I did not need to do anything.
"Proceed out of the lobby," my phone told me.
Ok. That is different, but I did not make it set any destination, so it had to be the guy that sent me the computer and tablet.
Outside I saw a line of cars waiting.
My phone rang and had a number I did not recognize, but it answered on its' own.
"This is Saadat a driver with Uber. I am driving green Toyota Camry Hybrid. I will be outside you hotel in tree minute," he told me.
"Ok."
He hung up before I could ask any questions.
When I looked at my phone I saw I was now running the Uber app and it showed a car moving on a street map. I was a pushpin at a spot in front of the hotel. The app showed a picture of the driver, license plate and said he was in a green Camry. Sure enough, in about two minutes he pulled up outside the hotel. When I walked toward the car he got out to open the passenger door.
"You are going to Makoto Sushi," he asked me.
"Yes. Thanks."
Well at least someone is watching out for me to eat well.
After getting into traffic, Saadat said, with a heavy accent, "I drive lot of people to Makoto. Everyone say are very good. Cannot use cell phone inside, if you need to make calls, go to Sushi Capitol. Only place with real Wasabi root they grind fresh for you at table."
Being a typical tourist, I looked around at everything instead of talking with the driver. I don't know how far we drove, but in traffic it seemed to take a long time. When we arrived I thought maybe he was at the wrong place. I expected the restaurant to be like the ones at home. Instead it was an almost plain looking wood entryway that looked a bit like a glass phone box with Makoto in shiny letters.
I realized I had not even paid the driver. I turned to give him my debit card and he was already gone. I got an email on my phone from Uber. It was a receipt for the ride.
Well that is cool. I did not even know how to get a ride here and yet someone already had that setup to charge a credit card somewhere. Dang I never went to an ATM. How much should I get for dinner? There were so many debit cards getting stolen lately by wait staff that I don't want to use that.
I looked around for a bank when I saw there was a sticker saying ATM Inside on the Makoto window. I was not really sure I should use it, but there was nothing else close that I could see. I didn't want to get lost in DC looking to get money. There wasn't any need to worry. As I reached my card toward the card slot, it come up with a PIN screen. I pressed four random numbers and was given a screen with the ATM options I saw when my parents used an ATM at their bank.
Just out of curiosity I hit the button to check my balance. It whirred a few seconds before printing out a slip of paper. I don't know how much I had for sure, the alignment was off. It looked like at least a million dollars. Just to be safe I withdrew $500, I could get more if I ate so much sushi I used all that up. This machine must be used to get out a lot of money at once. It gave me fifties instead of tens and twenties. The balance on the receipt did not even change. As I waited to ask for a table, I got a text saying, "Reservation under Parker Jones."
By the time I got up to the host stand, four people had already been really rude about having to wait over an hour for a table, others just headed over to the bar. I was ignored.
"Hey kid, get out of the way already, you are holding up the line," some grumpy old guy said from behind me.
At least that got the hostess to look up at me.
"Can I help you," she asked me flatly. "There is currently a two hour wait and you are too young to eat at the bar."
I looked at her name tag to see her name was Mabel.
Trying to keep my voice from cracking I replied, "Yes, Mabel. I have a reservation. My name is Parker Jones. Table for one."
I expected her to tell me I had to wait for one to be available. Instead, she perked up, grabbed the menus, and told me to follow her. Another woman slid up to the host stand to get abused by the jerk behind me in line.
"We have your table ready. Makoto is pleased that you chose us for your dining this evening," Mabel told me as she escorted me to small table near the back. "Is there anything I can get for you before your server arrives?"
I smiled at her and said, "Yes, please. A bottle of water would be great, if it is no trouble."
She turned quickly to get me one. I never saw anyone get service like this at home.
Putting it on the table, she asked, "Anything else Mr. Jones?"
"I think I am fine. I do have a question. Is your name really Mabel," I asked
Looking down she just nodded.
I waited for her to look back up at me before telling her, "It is a cool name, but you may want to use your middle one or make one up just for working here. The people in line with me were jerks. In school I know kids made fun or kids with names that were not like the other kids. Well at least the white kids."
"They made fun of it at my school too," she said sadly.
"What is your middle name?"
Blushing, she whispered, "Bliss."
"Wow that is different, but a lot cooler than Mabel. I would give that a try to see if things get better tonight. Can't hurt, can it," I told her.
She was going to say something when a Japanese looking woman pushed her out of the way to get to my table.
"Mr. Jones I will be serving you tonight. Are you ready to order," she asked politely, but very impatiently and dripping with disrespect.
I spent a few minutes looking over the limited menu. I really wanted Sushi and they only seem to have some sort of one choice menu. I looked around, but this just did not look like anything I was really interested in.
When the bitch waitress came back, I asked her about the menu and getting some sushi.
"This is not a sushi bar. We server Omakase style. We don't serve sushi," she almost spit when saying sushi.
"Thanks. Sorry to have wasted your time," I told her.
Since it was obvious I had not opened the water, I just got up and left. She rushed off somewhere. I had gotten almost to the door when a big Japanese man put his hand on my shoulder.
"Mr. Jones," he said as I turned to see what he wanted. "I am sorry you are not satisfied with the menu choices, but you cannot leave without paying for your meal."
I saw that bitch waitress standing there with a big smirk on her face holding up a long looking bill.
Taking a breath, mostly to make sure my voice did not crack, I loudly said, "Sir I did not eat anything. Your hostess Bliss kindly provided me with a bottle of water, which I never opened and left on the table."
"According to your bill, you ordered the sampler platter and a large Saki," he told holding up the bill from the bitch waitress.
Noticing a DC cop had come in and was standing just a few feet off to the side, I got out my wallet and turned to the cop. I handed him my "ID Only" card out of my wallet. It clearly had an "Under 21" stamped right over the picture.
"Officer, what is the drinking age in DC," I asked as he looked at it.
I caught his smirk. It was quick and long gone when he replied.
"Mr. Jones," he said sounding official. "The legal age to drink in DC is 21 years of age, like the rest of the US."
I was handed back my ID and so I turned to give to the big Japanese guy.
Actually hoping my voice would crack, I said, loudly, "Sir, I apologize for not paying for the water. I assumed that since it was obviously not opened, I could leave without paying for it. It was not even cold. How much is it?"
The guys was as much of a dick as the server was a bitch.
Shoving my ID back at me, he said, "You pay for what you ordered or I will have you arrested for theft little boy."
Calmly I put my ID back in my wallet, noticed the cop saying something into his radio and waiting to see what was going to happen.
"How much," I asked.
The big Japanese man turned to the waitress, got back the bill, and gave it to me.
"One hundred dollars will cover your meal and the server's lost tips from her tables," he said smugly.
I just pulled out two of the fifties, handed them to him, and asked for a receipt. While the waitress slipped off somewhere, I noticed two more cops had come in and the whole place had gotten silent. No one talked during the minute or two it took the waitress to come back with ticket showing $100 and marked paid.
"Thanks," I told the Japanese man. "Sorry I misunderstood how your restaurant works. I was sure if I did not like what I saw on the menu, I could just leave, since I did not even order anything but water. Restaurants are not like that where I live. Oh, one more thing."
The Japanese man and server were already turning to walk away when I said that. I used my phone to take a picture of the paid receipt, showing clearly the large Saki, and then handed the receipt to the officer from before.
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