Captive Bottle Thief

David J. Danto

Travel thoughts in my own, personal opinion

eMail: ddanto@IMCCA.org Follow Industry News: @NJDavidD on

Captive Bottle Thief - August 2025

I’m writing this blog from a surprisingly comfortable couch tucked into a conference center corridor. The content at this event has been amazing, but let’s be honest: sometimes you need to slip out for a restroom break – or just for a little sanity.

This is one of those conferences where I’m a hotel captive. The event is on property, I didn’t rent a car, and there are no grocery stores within walking distance. Basically, I’m living in a bubble. The only thing missing is Truman Burbank waving from the other side of the dome.

Here’s the problem: I need bottled water to make my morning tea with the trusty collapsible kettle I always pack. I have a strict personal rule against drinking hotel tap water. (I could explain why, but this blog would turn into an episode of CSI: Plumbing, Legionnaires Division if I did.)

Now, as a captive, I’m also a mini-bar hostage. The hotel generously gives me two tiny bottles of water a day. Those cover, what, maybe a minute? If I actually want to hydrate, I’m supposed to buy the mini-bar bottles for five bucks a pop. Five. Dollars. For water. Even when I’m billing my client for it, it still feels wrong.

So yesterday, I staged a minor heist. At the conference tables, each seat has a bottle of water and there are spares in the back. I slipped one into my backpack and smuggled it up to my room. This morning, I didn’t crack open the five-dollar bottle in the mini bar – I used my contraband instead. Was that stealing? Or is the hotel stealing from me by charging case-price rates for a single lonely bottle? I’m not sure, but I know which one feels more like Ocean’s Eleven.

Still, every time I do it, I feel like I’m channeling that grandmother who insists on a doggy bag – not for her leftover half salad, but for every pickle, cracker, ketchup packet, and sugar packet within reach. It’s not a flattering image, and I don’t want to become that person.

That’s actually why I almost always rent a car at conferences that last more than a day or two. With a car, I can just look up the nearest store, drive over, and buy a case of water for the same price as one mini-bar bottle. Without a car, I’m stuck playing Robin Hood with the conference supplies.

This time, though, I didn’t rent one. So for the next couple of days, you can just call me The Captive Bottle Thief.

And here’s the thing: I know I’m not alone. Every conference has its quiet rebels – the people who squirrel away an extra cookie from the coffee break, who grab one too many pens from the registration desk, who sneak out early to avoid the lunch line that wraps around the ballroom like it’s Comic-Con. We all have our little survival hacks when the venue holds us hostage. Mine just happens to involve bottled water.

So if you see me at the next event, don’t be surprised if I’m the guy slipping a bottle into my backpack on the way out. It’s not about the five dollars – it’s about principle, it’s about sanity, and maybe it’s about making sure the next keynote doesn’t feel like it was sponsored by Dasani.

Until then, cheers – with contraband hydration.

This article was written by David Danto and contains solely his own, personal opinions.

All image and links provided above as reference under prevailing fair use statutes.

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