The siren song of the bottomless Mimosa is a strong one. Champagne! Until you can’t drink it anymore! It’s like you’re a Roman god minus the vengefulness. All you’re missing is a nymph feeding you grapes. And in some parts of Miami, you can actually do that too.
But much like $20 of free play at a casino or any trip you get from a timeshare, bottomless Mimosas aren’t done for your benefit. Like the Bernie Madoff of brunch, they bilk you out of your hard-earned dollars with the promise of infinite drunken riches and offer nothing in return but a head-pounding hangover.