All Inclusive


We’re staying at an all-inclusive resort. All food, all drink, everything except WiFi is gratis, paid for in advance. This has unfortunate consequences.

It’s not that people gorge themselves, abusing the fact that they can eat as much as they possibly want without having to pay more. It’s not that people can drink so much that they think dancing La Macarena is a good idea. Rather the opposite; although there’s an unlimited supply of food, it’s hard to find anyone who wants to eat it.

For lunch today I had a pepperoni pizza, sin pepperoni. That was not bad. But tonight, at the resort’s poshest restaurant, we were served a meal of horrifying foulness. As one of the few vegetarians, I felt like a fortunate outsider, witnessing the awfulness from afar.

First, a moussaka gratin. What failed fusion of cuisines could that stand for? Apparently, the sort that puts badly cooks scraps of beef into a ham fisted insult to eggplant. The woman to my right had one bite, then fled to the bathroom to vomit.

They brought me a pink drink. It was a glass of:
Wine
Captain Morgan rum
Sprite
Cranberry juice
I drank it. It didn’t taste bad, for something mixed by a thirteen year old. Wine? What sort of person thinks that all wine is an undifferentiated volume of booze-juice? White wine? Red wine? Nah, it’s all just wine to me. At least the cranberry juice suggested my drink had some fruit involved. And some rum.

The main course arrived: mahi mahi, grilled until it had no flavour, then garnished with ginger artichokes. I like ginger, I like artichokes, but the combination of the two sounds a bit fierce. I had a vegetable plate (a zucchini, shaved into tiny slices) and nothing else. This seemed a better choice.

Dessert was odd. A scoop of bright green ice cream, and two lumps of what looked like a soft focus Toblerone, but turned out to be a strange, waxy chocolate caramel. I tried to quaff water to solve for the taste, but the water tasted of chlorine and despair.

We quit the restaurant, went to the all inclusive bar, and ate revolting potato crisps and drank beer. All inclusive beer. A solitary dog sat just outside the all-inclusive resort and tried to not appear rabid.

Much later, I fled to my hotel room. On the way up the hill I saw two animals, perhaps badgers, perhaps macaques, perhaps raccoons, glaring first at me and then at each other, there in the dark. They had no all-inclusive meals. There’s a point to this somewhere.


2 responses to “All Inclusive”

    • Just as we should always assume incompetence before maliciousness, here I can only think the whole thing is the result of a wager…

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