BUNNY'S TRAVEL LOG.
Day 1: "The brochure said 'oceanfront.' The ocean is a drainage ditch. I can smell it from here. Filed under: Lies, Marketing."
Day 2: "The bed has a spring that has made a personal vendetta against my spine. I have named it Gerald. Gerald and I are not friends."
Day 3: "The minibar charged me $47 for a bottle of water I did not drink. I have photographic evidence of its sealed state. The front desk does not care. Filed under: Theft, Institutional."
Day 4: "The door wobbles. Every wobble: $5 'door adjustment fee.' I have wobbled it 17 times trying to CLOSE it properly. I now owe this establishment my firstborn and three emotional breakdowns."
Day 5: "There is a 'continental breakfast.' The continent is unclear. Possibly one where food goes to die. The eggs are a war crime. The coffee is an apology that doesn't mean it."
Day 6: "Housekeeping left a mint on my pillow. It was stuck there. With something. I didn't ask. I cannot ask. Some questions are tombs."
Day 7: "The 'pool' is a puddle with ambition and a dead leaf named Harold. Harold is the only honest thing here."
"Pack your bags, we're going on a guilt trip."
(Filed under: Vacation. But make it miserable.)