Mr. Pug & Mr. Other Pug Are All Inclusive
“I cant carry this anymore. It’s too heavy,” complained Mr. Other Pug.
“I told you not to overpack, said Mr. Pug.
They dropped their bags at the front desk of the all-inclusive resort and looked up at the clerk. The woman behind the desk looked at them in bewilderment. Mr. Other Pug stood on tip toes.
“Can we please, please, please have a room with an ocean view,” asked Mr. Other Pug, barely seeing over the counter top.
The hotel clerk pointed at a chart on the wall. It read “Today’s available rooms: partial-partial-ocean view, partial-jungle view, combo ocean/jungle view, and no view.”
“Pick that last one one,” prodded Mr. Pug. “I have a good feeling about this.”
Mr. Other Pug reluctantly pointed to the bottom of the list, while Mr. Pug walked across the lobby. Mr.Other Pug checked in and then joined his friend standing in front of the activities chart..
“Where’s the luggages?” asked Mr. Pug.
“They’ll bring them directly to our room,” said Mr. Other Pug, “but it won’t be available til after 4pm.” Then he added, “When is 4pm?”
“I don’t know,” said Mr. Pug. “I’m a pug dammit, all I know is breakfast time, lunch time, dinner time….”
“And snack time,” added Mr. Other Pug.
“Most important time of the day,” smiled Mr. Pug.
“Most important,” reiterated Mr. Other Pug.
“So if the room isn’t ready til later,” said Mr. Pug, “look at all the cool stuff there is to do here.”
Mr. Pug fanned a bunch of brochures on the floor in front of them. Mr. Other Pug’s eyes widened as did his grin. Their all-inclusive Mexican holiday was about to kick off in grand fashion.
They started by joining in the Water Yoga program to the over amplified and awful remix of today’s worst pop music. It was a little hard for them both since they couldn’t seem to touch the bottom of the pool but they tried. Then an ample sized woman gave them dog-paddle lessons up to the swim-up bar.
“Convenient,” Mr. Other Pug.
After a round of ice cold ‘cervesas’, Mr. Other Pug peed in the pool. When the bartender asked them to leave, they headed to the beach for a pick up game of “wolleyball”. It was just like the game they saw on TV in the Olympics but instead of muscled guys and buxom blondes, the teams consisted of portly, sun-burned, semi-drunk, fun-loving men and women. It was like a ‘Jersey Shore’ party for the middle aged. Everyone had frozen drinks and was laughing so hard! And they all loved Mr. Pug and Mr. Other Pug’s dance moves to “Whoop There It Is” every time a point was scored. Then Mr. Pug bit a hole in the ball and they were asked to leave.
This was followed by a jet ski ride in the Caribbean to chase pelicans off the reef and a quick motor scooter ride to the jungle to look for green monkeys. There they zip-lined thru the treetops and manned kayaks and paddled into the mangroves. Mr. Pug dipped his head underwater to check things out. He held his breath for a long long time and when he came up he gasped “It’s like the biggest aquarium I’ve ever seen.” Mr. Other Pug dipped his head underwater to get a better look. When he came up for air he had a crab clinging to his ear. Mr. Pug pointed and laughed.
“I’ll never eat a crabcake again. They’re too feisty,” said Mr. Other Pug.
“Even fried with peanut butter?” asked Mr. Pug.
“Well…..” thought Mr. Other Pug.
Later they climbed a crumbling pyramid that was covered in vines and lizards…
“That was cool,”said Mr. Other Pug, who remembered chasing a gecko.
….and they bungee jumped from a tree next to a crystal clear water fall.
“Not cool,” said Mr. Pug, who never likes to be on a leash anyway.
Back at the hotel they got massages, learned to do a sleazy salsa dance, drank more cold beers and listened to a Mexican musician sing really bad cover tunes but with a bossa nova twist.
“Eee-mah-jean awl de pee-pull, lee-veene four two-day,” sang the Mexican singer.
Mr. Other Pug sipped his beer and happily sang along. Just then the woman from reception came into the lounge with the key to their room. When they opened the door they noticed their lugguge was already there.
“Magic,” said Mr. Other Pug.
Mr. Pug headed to the window.
“What could you possibly be looking at?” asked Mr. Other Pug. “This is a no-view room.”
Then he saw what Mr. Pug was staring at. There, between their balcony and the parking lot, on a patch of forgotten grass, was a bright red, virgin fire hydrant.
“I knew it,” whispered Mr. Pug.
“Pristine,” added Mr. Other Pug as if in a trance.
“I love Mexico,” said Mr Pug.
“Buenos noches, amigo,” said Mr. Other Pug. “Buenas noches nos de’ Dios.”