Sunday, February 20, 2011

Romancing The Dummy



At first, I didn’t want to go. I thought it was just a colossal waste of time especially when I think about another kazillion of “fun stuff” I could have done with my much deserved weekend. But, sigh, I decided to go anyway. Okay, I mean someone *cough*my boss*cough* made me go. So I packed my bags, hopped onto the bus, crossed my fingers and wished that these three days of sure-hell won’t be the closest thing I imagined it to be.

I know it hard for anyone to believe this, but yes, I attended CPR training at Felda Residence, Trolak. Never heard of that place? Me neither.



Finally, after barely survived watching (tolerating) 2-hour of mindless violent, on-the-bus Z-grade movie, courtesy of the organizer, me and another 34 of us, finally arrived at the camp.

Or so I thought.

Actually No, we didn’t go straight to our dorms, instead our desperate-to-be-popular bus driver, decided to make a last minute detour to Felda Residence Hotspring. The reason? You guessed it, “Popular request”. O yeah, for real. Apparently some superstitious makciks, whom I suspect never saw hot water comes out from the ground before (or in their lifetime, ever); make a point to marinate their lose skin with the “divine” boiling water as a cure for their skin diseases. Or maybe it was just one of their 'Things-I-Want-To-Do-Before-I-Die' wish lists. Sheesh..

Grudgingly, I had to get off the bus and forced to follow this excited bunch of people to soak their nasty, little feet in the puddle of hot water in the full view of my tired eyes. Eww.

In my mind, I couldn’t wait to get to my room, have a nice, warm, long shower, hit the sack with the lights on, and tried as I might to think that this was just all a series of bad dream that I hadn’t woken up from. Unfortunately the mosquitoes bite around my calf and arms felt too real. I resented the whole situation.

First, our detour to the hotspring took a little longer than expected. I mean, a really LOT LONGER. Aside the fact that some people couldn’t really understand the concept of moderation and self-control, I found it quite distasteful that anyone would pack their groceries from home, like eggs and frozen foods and boil them in the pool, right between their nasty, nasty feet. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww……

Secondly, of course, it was raining cats and dogs when we had our dinner at the nearby restaurant. We had to wait for another 1 hour or so for the rain to let up so we can get onto our bus. (We were a mile far from the dropped off point)

Could this first day be any worse? Yes it could.

How about when I finally got the room, the key wouldn’t turn? Or there was no Astro? Or my room was in third floor and there was no elevator?? Yeap, that was the last straw. I blew my top off – quite literally. I was ready to unleash my inner diva - Christina Aguilera style, but luckily they managed to act fast or for sure some innocence life would have been on the line.

So okay, first day wasn’t really the greatest day in my life, I admit, I was acting like an immature child of some Hollywood royalty. I get it.


The next two days of the program went surprisingly rather smoothly, except for few hiccups here and there like, someone was left without a room (not my fault), and Oh, of course, the food taste expectedly terrible (no surprise there, after all, we were not in faraway resort, in the Caribbean islands on super luxury vacation). Anyhow, I thought the service and cleanliness were quite commendable.

The last day went even quicker by the minute, but by this time, my body aches in all over the place, especially around the thighs and groin regions - I guess from so many kneeling, kissing, rubbing, pressing and romancing the dummies.

Okay, fine, maybe I am still a whiny, complaining son of a bitch, and maybe that’s the way I will always be. So, whatever. I certainly am not sorry.

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