The first thing I remember is being with my dad, outdoors, and I was preparing some kind of meal for him or the both of us.  There were at least three bagel halves in a shallow pan that were nearly submerged in liquid egg yolks, as if a bunch of eggs had been separated, then the yolks combined and turned into a type of sauce, then slathered all over these bagels.  I began sprinkling some salt and pepper on them.  As I was doing that, my dad came over and said something like “That’s enough for me.”  I guess a bit more seasoning would have been closer to my taste.

Then there was some kind of transition, and the scene was more about several cups of coffee.  My mom and my sister were now also present.  We were all outside at something like a picnic table, where a guy was giving some kind of presentation.  He was tall, slender, late-20s; I would guess Indian-American ethnicity.  It was clear to me that this presentation was some kind of ancillary ‘gig’ for him, being part of his employment agreement with the resort/establishment we were visiting at this time.  He was trying to climb up some professional ranking which had to do with expertise about coffee, somewhat like a sommelier, so giving these little presentations was a way for him to make a few bucks for the resort while also sharpening his showmanship ‘chops’ and staying current in the industry for his longer-term career goals.  As we sat at the table, he spoke about food-pairings, then it was time to try some slices of beef that had been prepared for us as samples.  There was some brief moment where the table seemed to be short one knife — everyone else had one, and had begun eating, but I couldn’t yet because there was no knife for me.  The presentation guy tried to turn this bit of misfortune/minor-mishap into an opportunity for a compliment, saying something to my sister or my mom like “Your son/brother is quite the gentleman.” I guessed this was intended to address the patience I had with the situation where I suddenly was like the odd-man-out.   So then the presentation guy gestured to his helper buddy to fix up something for me, and he suddenly retrieved a freshly fashioned knife and handed it to me.  This was no ordinary steak knife — this was like a mini-sword; it was about 12” long, about 1 ½ “ in height, had a slightly rounded curve, and a typical kitchen-style handle.  It was like he had just finished making it; I noticed it was still wet from the final finishing process step, probably a wet-sharpening.  I used my napkin to wipe it down, and took an extra moment to appreciate the craftsmanship and admire it before cutting into my piece of steak.

So then we stood up to go, and the layout of this ‘resort’ complex became more evident, like it could be observed in its form from a design/plan perspective.  It was evident that the whole thing was on pretty marginal quality land.  Each little ‘village’ unit was designed to give the guest the impression of being in an individual castle, with several little surrounding shops and whatnot.  But it just appeared gimmicky, unnatural, and artificial, like Disney Epcot.  There were no smooth transitions from one little ‘castle village’ area to the next; it was like each one was the same as all the rest, and from the inside would appear like it was complete in itself.  When looked at from above, however, these cookie-cutter plots were juxtaposed together wall-to-wall, in a way that maximized the square-footage of the property, but then left some vacant areas in between which received no ‘treatment’ or care whatsoever, looking just like the same marginal undeveloped land off in the distance.  So it just made the whole thing appear more like a profit-center based on creating a particular themed-illusion than a place to have a particularly fun/exciting/unique immersive experience.

So then we were walking down a sloped street and I saw off to my left an enormous steer (castrated male cow), which was literally hanging in a tree about 20 feet off the ground, suspended by ropes around its shoulders and rear haunches.  I suspected that it was about to be slaughtered.  As we walked by it became more evident how it was being hung; at first it appeared more in a vertical orientation, just hanging by the back foot like a post-slaughtered carcass, but then it was more horizontally oriented, with a second strap utilized to keep his front end more level with the rear — it was still alive, and it was huge and all stretched out in length to what appeared to be proportioned more like a Dachshund.  Then I realized I was still chewing a piece of steak from earlier, and I wasn’t enjoying it — it was bland and too chewy. So that, plus seeing this ritualistic cow being prepared, in conjunction with the whole ‘themed illusion’ perspective on the resort in general, I became a bit cynical about it all.  So I spit out my last bite of steak onto the street.  My mom saw that and threw a little fit, saying that we wouldn’t receive the $1400 in resort-credits if we refused any part of their various offerings, which would then make the whole trip more expensive.  That made me think of those BS time-share scams where they give people a free lunch along with a sales-pitch and then guilt-trip people into paying thousands of dollars above reasonable occupancy rates just for the ability brag to their friends that they “own a place in Cabo,” and then they won’t back-out even when they see it’s a crappy-deal just because a sales-douche provided them with single mediocre meal.  Anyway, from there I just remember walking up a small slope into a lobby-type of area, then noticed my aunt was there.  She looked pretty…old… and, not well; her cheeks were puffy so she had jowls.  It didn’t really look like her in actuality.  She wasn’t stable on her feet; she wobbled so I stuck out my arm to help brace her so that she couldn’t fall backward.  Then she and a few others gathered for a picture, and suddenly this woman I thought was my aunt had morphed into a different person who had had a lot of plastic surgery, most notably a face-lift. She was still old, but now with the skin stretched like a doll so there were no lines or creases even when she smiled.  That just made her look strange to me; since she wasn’t recognizable as a person I ever knew to begin with, there was no comparison to be made, so who could really judge whether her appearance was genuinely ‘better’?  I just thought she was some old lady spending tons of money trying to fight a natural process, so now it was like a bit of too-little-too-late, woulda shoulda coulda taken better care all along the way.  But hey, whatever makes you happy.

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