Thursday, March 12, 2015

The most epic room service story of all time.

So remember when I went to Fiji? I do, mainly because I look at the pictures and video’s every day and then I lay in the foetal position and I cry because I want to be back there so very badly. Coming back from holiday is always depressing isn’t it? There is a word for holiday ending depression, I can't remember it right now, nor can I be bothered looking it up, but it exists. Which is really first world and entitled I know, but shut up I am trying to tell a story.

When I am not looking at the photos or video and biting my fist to hold back desperate tears of rage that I can no longer just wake up, jump in the pool, swim over to the pool bar and ask the guy there to;
 "Kere Kere blend me a tropical fruit salad with some ice and stick an umbrella in it, so that I may drink my breakfast in the pool, Vinaka vaka levu,"

 I look at my new baby.



His name is ‘Kana’ which mean’s 'let’s eat' in Fijian.

He is a reminder of a magical night when three friends, who drank too many Fijian Gold’s and local Gin’s at the most beautiful wedding ever attended, tried to order room service. Remember when I said I'd tell you about that? I had a whole video.. and then, my bewbs.. and.. anyway...

The three friends were called Emma, Kerry and Leanne and yes they are their real names, because I seriously can’t be bothered thinking of any other names OK, I just want to be back in Fiji, leave me alone and let me live…

The three friends made their way back to their room from the beautiful wedding, stopping to talk to judgmental cane toads and hoarse from laughing and talking loudly over the music and festivities.

Judgmental Fijian Cane Toad

Once back at the room, the three decided that they were really hungry and they wanted the Fijian equivalent of 3am kebab. The resort restaurants had long since closed for the night, so the only thing for it was to order room service. They undressed from their wedding attire and Flipped through the resort room guide. Perusing the menu, they decided on the following;



A Club sandwich, a toasted cheese and chicken sandwich and a bowl of wedges. While this sounded simple enough, the three friends may have underestimated the language barrier slightly.

I don’t know exactly how long the room service took, but sometime later, there was a knock at the door, and in walked a lovely woman with an impressive afro and a warm smile wheeling a trolley, from which she took two very large trays of food and placed them on the end of my bed. Handing a piece of paper to Kerry to sign, I took in the large volume of food for a moment.




“Chillow, (Excuse me) But I don’t think that this is our order” I said as I took in the ten plates of food. “This is too much food”

“No No!” The lovely lady with a warm smile reassured me, “Everything comes with sides yeah?”
So at this point, Kerry (Not that I am pointing any fingers or anything) had already signed the paper, and the kindly room service lady had gone again wheeling her trolley down the hall.

“That’s a fucking lot of sides” I said taking in the food again.

Leanne, who was at this point naked as the day she was born, tucked herself into bed and Kerry began lifting off the lids of the food order.
It was then she agreed with me, that there were more than just sides here. There were EIGHT club sandwiches, a toasted cheese and chicken sandwich and a bowl of wedges.

EIGHT.

Eight sounds like A right? A club sandwich could possibly have been misheard as EIGHT club sandwich?

 We took a look at the copy of the room service paper that Kerry... (Not pointing any fingers or anything) had signed.

It was $381.00 Australian Dollars, which was all we pretty much everything we left at this stage...



After several more phone calls, and lots of waiting for someone to come and sort it out, we were told that it was just too bad because we (Kerry) had signed the bill. (Not pointing any fingers or anything..


Now, at this stage, the sun was up. That was how long it took the three friends to figure out this room service mishap.

Leanne, deciding that she was too tired for this shit, worried that she may be detained in a foreign country because she would not have the money to pay her bill or get home, stomped out of bed to sort it, momentarily forgetting that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. (Hence the lack of photo's of Leanne) promptly stomped back to grab a towel and wearing that towel she went to reception and had the whole thing sorted in about five minutes.


This guy friendly guy came and picked up our excess club sandwiches and all was right in Fiji again.

So when it came to picking a souvenir to remember our trip by, I decided on this baby. Which I had engraved with the most epic room service story of all time.




The end.

3 comments:

Zoe @ AdventuresInDomesticity said...

That was indeed an epic room service story. Perhaps, indeed, the most epic ever. What I want to know was, did you ever eat the one club sandwich that you ordered? And by the time you got around to it, did it taste good? Or was it cold and just a little bit stale?

Emmas Brain said...

We did eat it while we were waiting, I tasted the club sandwich and it was awful.. Just bloody awful. Leanne said her wedges were fine, I had the toasted sandwich which was so cold that the cheese had gone hard again. X

Trish said...

EPIC - indeed I'd have not signed the stoopid bill.How crazy - maybe they need new hearing aids.
Guitar nails it forever.