News reaches me from the antipodes of a man who has developed an ingenious method of feeding himself for free. He's simply been turning up at funerals - several a week according to Radio New Zealand - and filling up doggy bags with the grub generously provided at the wake. Although his behaviour is recognised to be anti-social and a little extreme, the 'grim eater' is apparently not unique. According to the RNZ reporter, 'funeral directors say serial funeral-goers and fake mourners are not uncommon'. I have images of Steve Coogan's beautifully observed character Alan Partridge in a Castrol GTX jacket.
The story has got me wondering how easy it would be to blag breakfast at a top hotel. Just stroll in, smile at the staff and help yourself to the buffet. (One thing I've observed over the years is that the trashier the hotel, the more officious they are in checking you off their list and making sure you're bona fide. The posher the gaff, the less they worry. It's an insult to their wealthy guests to be conducting too many inquiries into a diner's legitimacy.)
Anyway, must dash. Just getting dressed up for a wedding reception. Even though I don't know the bride and groom, I don't want to keep them waiting.
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