Page 69 of The Suite Life
We chat about the weather, the wedding – little bits here and there, until eventually my ‘order’ arrives.
‘Oh my God,’ Dad blurts as a pile of pool toys approaches him. I assume there’s a person under there, carrying them all, but you would never know.
Next come the waiters, with silver platters piled high with enough grilled cheese sandwiches for all of us – oh, and they look so good. They are maybe the fanciest grilled cheese sandwiches I have ever seen in my life, and I am not exaggerating.
And finally the staff from the spa arrive, armed with bottles of oils and various massage tools, ready to make us feel like a million bucks.
With everything finally here, I turn to Sunshine and look at her over my sunglasses.
‘If you can think of anything else you want, just shout,’ I tell her with a smirk.
And with that I push my sunglasses back up my nose, lie back on my sunlounger, and bask in my own smugness.
You have no idea how long I’ve fantasised about being able to do that.
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‘Wow,’ Donnie blurts. ‘I wish I could have been there, to see the look on her face.’
He finally sips his mai tai, after being on the edge of his seat through my story, about how I used my suite life powers to wipe the smirk off Sunshine’s face.
I lean back in my chair, sipping my own cocktail as I revel in smug satisfaction, and let out a long, contented sigh.
We’re hanging out in the gold bar, which is actually quite busy today. We’ve got our mai tais in hands – our new favourite drink. Yes, we have a drink now, which has really cemented our friendship. It’s serious, once you have a drink – like a loved-up couple having a song.
‘I might have got a little bit carried away, though,’ I confess. ‘I invited them all to join us here, because they were all asking about the infamous gold bar, but none of them have shown up so we might be off the hook there. I can’t imagine it being anything but stressful, having that lot here.’
The gold bar really is a sight to behold. It’s just so, so gold. I’ve never seen so much gold in one place. I don’t imagine it’s real because not only would that cost a fortune – even by GrandPalm Resort standards – but because you would have to be crazy, to make a room so valuable, and then decide that its main use will be to house drunk people.
Donnie laughs, clinking his glass against mine.
‘You can take the girl out of the suite, but you can’t take the suite out of the girl,’ he jokes.
‘Oi, it’s not like that,’ I insist. ‘I mean, like with Sunshine, she is so hostile, and Lucy’s other bridesmaid isn’t exactly a bag of laughs, and Nathan is Nathan.’
‘I’m just teasing, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,’ he insists.
‘You, of all people, should feel relieved that they haven’t turned up,’ I point out. ‘Lucy is lovely, and my parents are great – although my dad does tell too many dad jokes, so brace yourself for that on the wedding day,’ I warn him. ‘But I can’t imagine Sunshine coming in peace, seeing as though you’re a friend of mine.’
‘I’m resilient,’ he tells me. ‘Factor 50 – Sunshine can’t touch me.’
I laugh. I like that a lot. I need to slather myself in some of that attitude.
My eyes dart across the room. I keep being distracted by a group of men over at the booth in the corner, who are clearly having a wild time. They’re being so loud and lairy. Not to sound like a gold card snob, but this certainly isn’t what I’ve come to expect, from these exclusive areas. I suppose I’d forgotten what it felt like, to experience something that you would absolutely not class as luxury.
As one of them screams, slamming his hands down on the table, it makes me jump. They’re like a tropical storm that is growing closer by the minute.
I shoot Donnie a wide-eyed look.
‘Geez, I thought I was paying for peace and quiet?’ I say with a faux snobbery. ‘I didn’t realise I would need to bring my earplugs to the bar, to enjoy a quiet drink.’
I say this quietly enough so that the men don’t hear me, obviously, because as annoying as they are, I’m only joking.
He smirks, appreciating the bit.
We’re interrupted by the cough of someone wearing a ‘manager’ badge next to us. He’s wearing a three-piece suit and a mortified look on his face.
Awkward! I wasn’t really complaining, just pretending to, although to explain that to this guy would be to confess that I’m way above my pay grade here. Were I on theTitanic, I wouldn’t have had a window, which is probably the best way to explain it to the elite here. I’m Jack Dawson in his suit right now, and I intend to keep it that way.
