Breakfast

Mr Pose up by elevator and went in the hotel's hall. He stared the reception: There were already some guests. The keys in hand, the suitcase on the floor, ready for going off. Mr Posen comes then, sees the shelf under the reception, where the keys hung.

He look at the clock, 8.35, he has enough time yet. He asks for a newspaper and goes to the hotel's restaurant. The breakfast is being served. A buffet, a very good buffet.

He knows that, he has been there more times, once or twice at a month. He knows all the hotels in the city. Everything isn't bad, but he really loves the "Atrium".

Why? Has it a modern design? No, it is completely normal for a 4-stars hotel. The guests are typicals: bussiness men, musicians, tourists, etc. The place is very good too, central, but there are too much hotels here, too much closer...
Probably, the breakfast is awesome. Simply perfect! He loves these rituals. First, he sees a glass of orange and two croissants and secondly he sees a comfortable chair with a green table (his favorite color).
Outside the big intersection, the desolation of a winter morning, the stress, the noise, the bustle. The restless crowd, trough the window of the hotel, so near and yet so so far. And here, this pleasant warm, this wonderful peace. How charming!

Mr Posen bites his croissant. He knows, he is a privileged.

The waitress comes with two jars at her hands.
'Good morning! Coffee?' asks sie smiling
'Yes, please' answered Mr Posen 'With a bit of milk; o.k., thanks!'
He likes the personal of the hotel. He finds the service of the hotel very friendly and affable. Naturally, it is their job. Pure routine, although Mr Posen is thankful. That job isn't easy. Some people behaves badly, just because the fact that they are guests and their companies have payed a lot of money.

Mr Posen continues with his breakfast. Now something salty, he tooks a tasty bread with cheese, then fresh fruit, a yogurt and a bit of muesli. More coffee and more orange juice. Everything with the newspaper. He reads an article and consults the sport results.

The waitress comes again, without jars.
'Excuse me' said sie with a beatiful voice 'The number of her room, please'
Mr Posen closes the newspaper.
'314' he smiles and repeats '314'
He returns to the newspaper and looks to the clock. He hasn't got a lot of time. He look for a tip in his pocket, 2'50€, well, it is a little tip... He put it near to the dish. He left the table, scraping the yogurt.

He returns to the hall of the hotel and exists. There, the sun shines birghtly. He is at the street again and he turns to the hotel. It is a very good hotel, the 'Atrium'... It is his favorite hotel: the breakfast, the personal, the view from the window. The hotel deserves 5 stars. About the room, he can't say anything. He isn't ever there, he hasn't ever slept in these bedrooms. In three, four week that he will come back.