HEARSAY: Tales of The General – Christos Pavlidis

From Croissants to Cartels: The Breakfast Meeting That Turned into a Bust

It was not too long ago, one of those mornings that looked like it was going to be perfectly ordinary. The kind of weekday where you think, Yep, I’ll grab my coffee, smile politely at the Execs, and get through this breakfast meeting like a pro.

We’d just sat down when the Duty Manager leaned over and whispered, “Hey, can you check on that guy by the entrance?”

Now, this wasn’t exactly the sort of “guest encounter” you put in the training manuals. As I walked up, I clocked him straight away — dishevelled, a few bags in tow, and with that unmistakable “either too many cocktails or not the right kind of cocktails” look. My first thought? He’s wandered in off the street…

But then, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he produced a room key. A legit, working, beep-at-the-door room key. Oh boy. Not a random drifter — an actual guest. Cue the awkward shuffle of me trying not to look like I’d just judged him harder than Simon Cowell on talent night.

The situation quickly went from curious to concerning. He wasn’t able to string a sentence together, and my “hospitality instincts” (and, let’s be honest, common sense) kicked in. I called 000 (emergency hotline). Soon enough, the cavalry arrived — paramedics, police, the whole deal.

At first, our mysterious guest — let’s call him Charlie — denied everything. “No drugs, no problem,” he mumbled. But between myself and the paramedics, we gently nudged him toward reality. Finally, he sighed and admitted it: he’d taken a “cocktail” of drugs. (Not the kind we serve with an umbrella and a slice of lime).

Just when we thought it couldn’t get stranger, the police stepped in. Charlie was slowly becoming more lucid, and in his new-found honesty, confirmed to them too what he’d taken. The officers then explained they’d have to search his bags. And this, my friends, is where the story takes a sharp left turn.

Because out came… the cash. Not a cheeky $20 note folded into his wallet, but wads of it. Piles. Enough to make you wonder if we’d accidentally stumbled into the pilot episode of Narcos: Melbourne.

And then came bag number two. The officers unzipped it and started pulling out clear packets. Not lollies. Not protein powder. Nope. We’re talking serious quantities of drugs. A lot. Suddenly, “guest in distress” turned into “international big wig about to face the music”.

So, there we were, Execs still nibbling on their croissants, me standing there like I’d just walked into a crime drama, and Charlie being read his rights.

He wasn’t just a messy guest after all — he was a big player, and he’d just been busted. Our friend Charlie wasn’t going to be leaving with late checkout. He’s going away for a long, long time.