Last resort: Make a quick getaway
Bengaluru-based stand-up comic Praveen Kumar describes his unforgettable holiday experience
This happened roughly 18 months ago when I decided to take my wife and daughter to a resort. Actually, this was the result of a promise I made to my wife after a fight that happened 18.01 months ago.
We chose a resort on the outskirts of Bengaluru, based on two criteria — 1. Very cheap rates 2. Very cheap rates. It is Rs 2,500 a night all inclusive, for accommodation, food, taxes and as I found out later, even some after effects like diarrhoea.
The road that led to that resort was so bumpy that most of our internal organs got relocated to undisclosed locations. Luckily, we managed to keep our dinner down, but breakfast threatened to throw up. Somehow, we made it. The place looked decent but there was a weird-looking receptionist. There was lush greenery all around, including on her head. My wife felt pukish after seeing her but was later convinced that the receptionist could be used as a threat to make my daughter eat her veggies.
We were allotted a cottage amidst the greens. We settled in the room and ordered food. We just hoped and prayed that it was a mere coincidence that after we ordered food, these resort guys took a dog inside the kitchen. But the food that we were served didn’t look or taste like dog. In fact, it was probably worse than dog. I got diarrhoea just by looking at the food for two minutes. My wife got morning sickness all over again. Later in the night, we found that the resort guys had forgotten to inform us that we had some roommates — rats, frogs and grasshoppers. The resort had turned into a zoo. The housekeeping team came and placed rat poison at strategic spots but unfortunately for us, the poison only seemed to provide additional nutrients to the rodents, going by the speed of their scuttling. My wife and I couldn’t sleep the whole night. We had this strange feeling of something creeping on our legs all through the night and that actually turned out to be just the bedsheet. The next morning, we checked out from the room much before the scheduled time and I couldn’t stop humming Papa Roach’s “This is my last resort.”
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