Just a Little Glitch

‘Cucumber and mint water.’ I reported, savouring the sweet, cold liquid, dehydrated from the long flight.

‘Ooo I want some!’ Katherine said quickly, dropping her bags, her sweatpants, neck pillow and wild, disheveled brown hair looking amusingly out of place.

‘I can’t believe we’re here.’

‘Me neither. Look at this place!’

We stood in the lobby of what felt like a hotel out of a magazine. An elegant and understated Thai influence; art made of smooth, curving wood flaked with gold; perfectly placed plush couches and accent pillows, the sent of lavender, the bubble of a fountain, and almost imperceptibly soft ambient music.

‘Enjoy your stay.’ Said the smiling Thai receptionist in a sweet, high voice, folding her hands together as if in prayer.

Tired from the 16-hour flight but excited, we followed a neatly polished wooden boardwalk to our room – second floor of only two floors.

I went first to the balcony, taking in a deep breath of the humid ocean air, a feeling of relief and freedom spreading through me. Two lounge chairs with crimson cushions sat looking into the artificial jungle, a river-like pool silently flowing below, overhung by tropical trees. “Idyllic” was the only word for it.

‘Let’s freshen up and head down to the beach.’ Katherine said, emptying her bag of makeup and beauty products onto her immaculately presented bed – fresh white and yellow orchids on the pillows.

The bathroom was large enough we could get ready together in front of a grand mirror. Hair brushed, faces washed, makeup re-applied, we walked down to the beach.

It was nighttime. We could hear the faint sound of island music and see the glowing light of strings of lanterns peeking between the palm fronds. The air was moist but the heat of the day was gone, replaced by the gentle ocean breeze that wafted through. We came to the sand and took off our sandals, curling our toes in its softness.

I took out my phone and snapped a few photos that I thought would look artsy.

There weren’t many guests, just a comfortable amount, the amount you wanted. Enough so that the hotel didn’t feel empty but not so many that you felt intruded on.

My face was beaming at the beautiful and natural simplicity of everything, the outside world a distant, distant and unwanted idea.

A bonfire had been lit, cracking happily, and a tanned, young local with choppily cut hair and a half un-bottomed linen top was playing guitar.

Katherine and I found two empty rattan chairs. Sitting down, I nearly fell backwards as mine sunk into the soft sand.

We both had a good laugh. A few moments later a waiter with a wide, honest smile on his face brought us menus.

‘Can I get you ladies a drink?’ He asked us.

‘I mean it would be rude not to. It’s our first night in Thailand after all.’ I said, my head tilted up, looking into the night time sky, a sky I’d never seen before.

Katherine ordered a cocktail that came in a pineapple. I ordered a mango mojito.

‘Can you believe this place?’ I said distantly, still engrossed in the serenity of the distant Thai beach, still impressed by the hotel that was at once distinctly Thai and yet in no way cliché – a perfect marriage of East and West.

‘I know. It looked awesome online, but wow, just wow.’

‘We should have booked for longer. I can already tell.’

We both ordered the chicken pad Thai which did not disappoint.

‘Ow!’ A little electric zap to the brain.

‘What?’ Katherine quickly asked in her slightly hypochondriac way.

‘Nothing, I just get these weird sharp pains every once in a while. “Brain glitches” I call them.’

‘Get that checked out! I’m going to be so pissed at you if you stoke-out while we’re on holiday.’

‘You’ll just be mad because it’ll cut into your tanning time.’

‘Exactly.’

When we finished dinner we walked around the hotel grounds. It was serene. We found the hotel’s Japanese restaurant, the sound a shamisen emanating from its door, and where we’d go for our buffet breakfast in the morning. We walked a little bit further down the beach and saw a few local restaurants – rustic plastic chairs and tables set up in front of palm-thatched huts serving out local dishes. We decided to come try one tomorrow.

I took another look at the moon. It was perfectly full, a light, glowing halo around it from the humidity. I felt so at peace, so content.

We headed back to our room. Showered and got into bed. We laid there with the lights off like two school girls, gossiping about hot movie stars and imaging our lives with them.

The breakfast buffet was astounding. The dinning room was about half the length of a ballroom and laid out with anything anyone could possibly want for breakfast. After a couple exploratory laps I came back with a plate full of fruit, waffles and Nutella. I had told myself I would eat healthy, that I wouldn’t be a pig at the buffet, well…oink, oink.

After breakfast we waddled down to the beach and plopped ourselves on two sun loungers just feet from the waves. Katherine pulled her’s into the blazing sun.

‘Aren’t you going to burn? It’s like a million degrees and the sun is crazy intense.’ I asked as I hid under my umbrella.

‘No way! I’ve got Italian and Indian genes. I can go black if I bake long enough.’

I shrugged my shoulders. We settled in and in the way that only two close friends do, fell into a comfortable silence that extended into the afternoon.

‘Fuck! Damnit! Ow!’

‘What!’ Katherine reflexively shouted, my outbursts waking her up from her sun-drenched nap.

‘Nothing, nothing, just a little glitch.’

‘Dude, seriously, that’s not normal.’

‘Ya, ya, it’s fine.’

She was too relaxed to insist further.

When Katherine felt sufficiently roasted we took a walk down the beach, past where we’d seen the little local restaurants the night before. A-frame billboards were stuck in the sand here and there advertising massages.

‘Gah! A massage right on the beach! And look at the prices! I couldn’t even look at a masseuse back in Vienna for that.’ She drooled.

‘Not in London either.’ I seconded.

After an unnecessary amount of deliberation we picked a weather-worn hotel, charming in it’s own way, that had bamboo cabanas set up on the beach. We took quick, cold showers to wash off the salt and sweat then stepped into the shaded huts and laid down on soft mattresses where we were massaged into mild comas.

We tipped our masseuses and with the relaxed sleepiness of post-massage delirium, headed back to our glamorous hotel.

‘We should just stay here.’ I said jokingly. ‘We could go “missing” and just live on a beach in Thailand forever.’

‘I’m fine with that.’

What an idea. To live like this forever. Some people did, I guessed. Somewhere some people lived in paradise.

Zap! ‘OW!’ I said winching.

‘Duuuude.’ Katherine said in a long, protracted way, kind of like how a mother scolds a child.

‘Alright, alright, hold on.’ I finally relented. ‘Just give me a minute.’

‘I swear, don’t get stuck on the other side. We paid a lot of money for this.’ She said annoyed, her arms folded across her chest.

‘I know, I know.’ I groaned, taking the heart-shaped locket from around my neck, opening its metallic clasp which called up the visual display. I tapped the glowing icon ‘EXIT’.

The beach faded, the Thai sun dimmed, the scent of the ocean dwindled and then disappeared.

I opened my eyes, adjusting to the grey, unnatural light of the pod. It took me a moment to get my arms and legs coordinated. I first clipped the nutrient port in my arm shut, gently slid the silver cap with its diodes off my head, I followed each of the meticulous steps of ‘Unplanned Exit’ we all learned by heart. Now safely disconnected, I pushed the cold leaver above my head and the glass shell around me opened with a hiss.

I stepped out, my legs a bit shaky at first and my head spinning. I looked around the dark room, fluorescent light reflected off the hundreds of pod shells, each occupied by someone living out another life.

Out the windows of the grim room. Everything was grey from the sunless sky. The air heavy and scarcely breathable. The only people on the streets were in unsightly, toxic rain resistant coats and face visors.

‘Can I get some help here?’ I shouted to the deathly still room.

A sallow faced man looked up from a book.

‘What?’ he curtly replied.

‘There’s something wrong my shell. I keep getting glitches.’

‘You pay your rent?’

‘Obviously.’

He let out a heavy sigh, put his book down with a deliberate smack and slunk over.

‘How often?’

‘Three in the last cycle.’ I replied, watching him circle the silver and glass pod.

He bent down to the ground, his pants sliding lower than I wanted to see.

‘There’s the problem.’

‘What?’

‘Plug’s half out.’ He shoved it back into the socket.

‘So I shouldn’t have any more glitches, right?’

‘No. If you do, come back out and we’ll get someone from maintenance’

‘Do I get a refund on the time lost?’

He looked at the clock on the pod that counted down the minutes in simulation.

‘Ya sure, whatever.’

‘Thanks.’ I said sarcastically as I stepped back into my pod, reconnected the nutrient tube, placed the delicate cap back on my head and tapped the locket on my chest reflectively as I thanked God I could afford to escape reality.