Tom surprised Helen with a weekend getaway at a “rustic cabin.” Unfortunately, the place looked like it had barely survived a bear attack. The welcome mat read “No Refunds,” and a raccoon on the porch was already wearing Tom’s sock like a headband.
Inside, the luxury was non-existent. The “fireplace” was just a printed picture of fire taped to a space heater, and the bed was held together by two couch cushions and a prayer.
At 3:00 AM, as they lay on a rapidly deflating mattress listening to the raccoon drag their cooler into the woods, Tom nervously whispered, “Did you hear that?”
Helen stared at the ceiling and replied, “Yes. That was the sound of my standards dying.”
Driving home the next morning in brutal silence, Tom tried to break the ice. “Look, honey… next time, I’ll just book a luxury spa.”
Helen didn’t even look at him:
“Next time, I’m going alone.”
