My wife and I decided to go on a day trip here at BlueBay Resort in Mexico. I’m enjoying the sun and although slightly accustomed to beer I am surprised that at an all inclusive it is possible to obtain a beer belly in about three days. My face looks like a pinyata at a divorcee dance but I’m happy. My liver hasn’t spoken to me directly so I shall continue on my path of self pollution.

In the lobby we had to wait to speak to the travel trickster and another hotel employee approached us to mention that we could get a one hundred dollar American voucher to use towards our trip if we spent and hour in an information session. I make about three Canadian dollars an hour so this was the best business opportunity I had been given in over a decade.

She started filling out a form and between her Spanish and my Chinese wife interjecting with syllables there was more ink than the Magna Carta. She wanted photo identification like people were in the habit of infiltrating their sales system. They even drove us back to our room so my wife could get hers to prove we weren’t the usual conning Canucks.

They drove us to a VIP area and I was quite amused. We were pre interviewed by a nice lady who twice asked if my credit card wasn’t a debit card. Neither are of much use as a form of money and I only use them to bruise my buttocks. She handed us off to Hernandez who was originally from Venezuela and an ambulance pilot in the military before he gained employment in Mexico bleeding tourists. His wife was a lawyer at some point but I smiled at him none the less. He refatted himself on smoked fish while I dogged his saliva that his braces either impaired or employed.

I hadn’t used my intellect since I arrived so I was pleased to listen to his numbers wrapped in tropical temptations. We could travel to 144 countries with VIP service which mainly meant we didn’t have to book our meals and we would be given the use of a 74 foot yacht. He explained that I didn’t have to pay a commission to corporations or travel agents but failed to mention that he and his Hispanic friends were bullying me for more. The information session became very aggressive and after his supervisor sat down with us we were told today was the only day to hand over eight thousand dollars. My credit card was convulsing in laughter and for a change it wasn’t at my shrinking ass. Eight thousand is more than I make in a year so I was trying to tell them I had to think about it for a minute. Another man joined the chorus of corruption and asked if this was something I could do if I used a few of my credit cards. I was forty years old when I got my first and only credit card and I feel fortunate to have one. The day I have three there will be two angry people chasing me down the street.

I told them they were all trying to sell me the same flavour of ice cream which I found distasteful. They had answers to my answers and I was becoming stressed. “I have to use the washroom, you can talk to my wife.” I removed the two beers that they thought might make me fall into this fallacy and I returned to my wife who I then stood beside.

We were not offered a ride back to our room but my wife seemed in a good mood regardless. Apparently, while I was in the washroom she tried to sell them each a fitness training package that could be used in 144 clubs in Canada. Time share that.