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Now available for preorder:
The San Francisco Panorama.
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- - - - CLUB EXISTENTIAL DREAD
The following is my diary from a week I spent at a Club Med resort located in Turks and Caicos, a small chain of magnificent islands in the British West Indies. I originally wrote this diary for Details magazine, but they chose not to publish it. I'm not sure why they didn't go for it, but I think I didn't file the kind of report they were looking for. Day 6, July 7
Had a deep-tissue massage on the dock by the water. A lot of unhappiness and stress was released. I kept crying out in pain. I screamed: "I confess!" The sweet female masseuse laughed. All day I swam, the light shining in the water like sequins. They're really converting me. The yellow has drained from my eyes. I feel healthy. The Club Med ethos is a bit forced: the staff shouting at us all the time to make noise, to clap, to be happy. It's summer camp for adults. But it sort of works. If you act happy, your brain starts to believe you're happy. Day 8, July 8
I'm in the airport, waiting to go. All I did yesterday was swim and read. Quite blissful. Got the bill. That phone call cost $150. Oh, well. It will be good to see P., to not be alone. In the van here to the airport, I was with three very pretty women. As we left Club Med, all these people were there saying goodbye to the women, crying. No one was there to say goodbye to me. Hardly anyone knew I was there for a week. Except the nurses. It reminded me of summer camp when I was thirteen. On the last day, everybody was weeping, parting from their friends. I had made no friends. So I took a picture of two beautiful girls to show my parents, to pretend that I had made friends. It depressed me to remember this. I was a loner and a loser back then. But at least I'm consistent, and I prove the fact that people don't really change. But I must be changing a little. When we got to the airport, I helped the women with their enormous bags and they were very grateful and friendly. They almost acted like they wished they had met me sooner, which was a minuscule victory. But the real sign of growth is that I didn't ask to take their picture. I don't have to pretend, anymore, that I have friends.
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