Hot Josh and the Great Coffee Shop Hostage Situation

There’s a coffee shop downtown that markets itself as “a cozy place for creativity.” What that really means is: good luck finding a seat unless you get there before sunrise or after the economy collapses.

I walk in at 10 a.m. on a Saturday. The place is absolutely packed—laptops everywhere, influencers taking selfies with foam art, one guy loudly editing a podcast like the world needs it.

But I spot it.
The holy grail.
The only available electrical outlet in the entire building.

Unfortunately, it’s next to a tiny two-top table currently occupied by a woman with a single beverage and a stack of untouched magazines. She is not using the outlet. She has no laptop. No phone plugged in. She might not even know electricity exists.

I approach.

“Hi, excuse me,” I say with my best diplomatic smile, “are you using this outlet?”

She looks at it, then at me. “No.”

I gesture to it like Vanna White revealing a vowel. “Perfect. Then I’ll take this table.”

She blinks. “Um… I’m sitting here.”

I pull out the chair anyway. “Yes, but you’re not using the table to its full potential. You’re occupying prime electrical real estate. It’s like leasing beachfront property just to stare at the water.”

She sputters, “I’m… reading.”

“Exactly. Zero wattage activity.” I set my laptop down like I’m claiming land for the crown.

A barista rushes over. “Sir, she was here first.”

I hold up a finger. “I understand that. But look around. Every outlet is taken. This is a resource allocation issue. A justice issue. A community issue.”

The barista crosses her arms. “Sir, you can’t just take someone’s table.”

I counter: “She admitted she doesn’t need the outlet. I do. If this were the last oxygen tank in the building, who should get it? The person who needs it… or the one reading Better Homes & Gardens from 2018?”

A man nearby whispers, “He has a point.” Another nods solemnly.

Eventually, the barista caves—probably to avoid unionizing the entire café against her—and asks the woman if she would mind relocating.

She moves.

I plug in, victorious.

Ten minutes later, the outlet shorts out and trips the breaker.

I pack up and say, “You’re welcome, everyone. I just tested your emergency infrastructure.”

Because Hot Josh doesn’t just take outlets. He reallocates them for the greater good.