MALIBU, CA–Even Sundays are workdays for Hunter Biden. As a successful attorney, international businessman, husband, Naval officer, and the son of the President of the United States of America, he’s one busy guy. On this particular workday, Hunter’s calendar was unusually free from meetings. This meant casual Friday on a Sunday. So, he threw on a comfy hoodie-jean combo and sought out a new coffee shop to cozy up at for the day.
By his admission, this wasn’t Hunter’s most productive workday. He was distracted by the coffee shop’s soothing music, surrounding conversations, and the best vanilla latte of his life. Three hours in, and Hunter was already on his third vanilla latte. He knew he exceeded his caffeine limit, but it was Sunday, so Hunter let the good times roll.
At approximately half past noon, Hunter’s body sent him a distress call. His bladder was full. The President’s son urgently needed to pee, but he wasn’t ready to surrender his workspace and go home yet. “My big concern became my laptop. I can’t take it in the bathroom with me, because what if I accidentally pee all over it? I probably won’t, but I also don’t trust myself not to,” Hunter recounted. Without other options available, he surveyed the coffee shop for a trustworthy person to keep an eye on his laptop.
After scouting the cafe’s clientele, Hunter set his sights on a man with an American flag T-shirt. If this guy loves America so much, then he’ll really love the President’s son. Hunter knew this guy could be trusted. “My good man, I drank one vanilla latte too many. Duty calls. Would you mind keeping watch over my laptop until I get back? You can trust me. My dad is the President of the United States of America,” Hunter inquired with a friendly grin. The man, whose name remains unknown, was initially frozen in shock. After the gravity of the situation set in the man nodded and grunted his compliance. Hunter thanked him and sprinted off to the bathroom, unbuckling his pants along the way.
When Hunter returned, he apologized to the barista about the bathroom. He didn’t clarify what happened but asserted that the barista best just keep quiet about it because “I know people. Powerful people. I could buy you if I felt like it.” The through seemed credible, so the barista didn’t ask any further questions. Hunter appeared satisfied until he suddenly snapped. “Make me a vanilla latte, or I’ll fucking lose it!” The barista hastily fixed Hunter a vanilla latte. Hunter slipped him a nickel for his efforts and returned to his table with a new beverage.
When the President’s son returned to his table, the man, his American flag shirt, and Hunter’s laptop were all missing. “Oh, that’s bad,” Hunter muttered to himself.