HOTEL DECENT

The cab broke down on the highway as I was returning home late at night from a business trip. Leaving my driver to locate a workshop, I flagged down an autorickshaw and asked for the nearest lodge. He dropped me at a building boasting a highly optimistic name: Hotel Decent.

The room was decent enough. I looked around and told myself I would survive the night.

But right then, I was hungry.

I didn’t want to risk eating anything adventurous in a hotel like this. My stomach had already endured enough on this trip.

I picked up the room-service card and dialled the number 6 as instructed on the sticker stuck on the phone dial pad.

A woman answered. “Hello, sir.”

“Hi, Room 206. I’d like to order a sandwich, please.”

Silence.

“Sir… sandwich?”

“Yes, please.”

“Sir, you want sandwich massage?

I jumped up on the bed. “Sorry?”

“Sandwich massage, sir. Very special.

“Madam, I want a sandwich to eat!”

“Oh!” She giggled. “Sir, you have to check directly with the therapists about that. Right now, one of our therapists is busy. Can I arrange a normal one now, and you can continue with the sandwich after 45 minutes?”

“Yes, normal will do. But wait… what do therapists have to do with my sandwich?”

“Therapists, sir. Masseurs. Spa workers. Sir… this is the spa!”

The absurdity clicked. “Madam, there’s a misunderstanding. Can you give me the restaurant number?”

“Of course, sir. Dial 9. But you must try our sandwich massage! Special offers available on full body premium massages tonight.”

“No,” I said sternly, slamming the phone down.

Looking closely at the dial pad, I realized some absolute genius had swapped the stickers for the spa and the restaurant. I dialled 9. The actual restaurant answered. I ordered a veg sandwich and tea.

Twenty minutes later, a waiter arrived, set down the tray, and gave me a slow, intense wink. “Sir, anything else?”

“No.”

“Massage?”

“NO!”

“Sir, think about it! Hot oil, cucumber on your eyes, and 20% off if you let Pinky do the breadcrumbs step!”

“The what?! Get out!”

“Sir! Just asked. The spa is famous here and decent!” He shrugged as I ushered him out and locked the door.

The next morning, the car arrived after repairs. I rushed down to settle the bill and check out. The invoice showed only the room charges, Veg. Sandwich, and Tea. I sighed with relief.

I paid and collected the invoice copy.

“Thank you, sir!” she said, handing me a small coupon. “A complimentary discount coupon for your next visit!”

I glanced at it.

It read: “Exclusive discounts on Spa Services. Valid until December 31st.”

I scrambled into my car, and we drove away.

I tore the coupon and let it flutter out of the car window.

A hoarding appeared on the highway.

HOTEL DECENT 
Rooms • Restaurant • Spa

I chuckled. “Some sandwiches are meant to be eaten; others are apparently meant to be experienced. I was quite happy with bread.”