Think of it as "buying a lifestyle"!

OK, so this weekend we took advantage of our "discounted vacation package" which was really a time share presentation disguised as a fabulous weekend getaway. Not that we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into; we went in knowing full well we were going to have to sit through a 90-minute (minimum) experiment in human psychology but we were armed with our "no" faces and wearing clothes normally reserved for yard work or bathing animals.

The sloppy first-impression was Neal's idea. Perhaps he was subconsciously inspired by the episode of The Cosby Show where Dr. Huxtable and Theo go to the car lot to lowball wearing their threadbare shirts, only to be recognized as a doctor by one of the sales staff. Only in this instance, you have to fill out paperwork stating your occupation and income level. Nice try, Dr. Spears. We couldn't lie on the forms since it could invalidate the whole deal and we'd be liable for the remainder of the cost of the weekend. Thanks a lot, internet.

Anyway, we went and sat at the Registration Center of the resort for about 20 minutes in which time we were offered free hot dogs and chocolate. We were also forced to listen to annoying clips from "America's Funniest Home Videos" that were turned up to 11 so that little kids would be completely engaged and not at all bothersome while the sales rep was trying to establish what promised to be a life-long relationship with the potential buyers.

Our tour guide/sales rep finally greeted us and took us outside for our interview, probably so he could hear us over Bob Saget's voice. He asked all the standard stuff and acted like he was totally impressed with every syllable we uttered. We're trying to keep expectations low so that he's not too disappointed when we tell him "no", and much to his credit, I think he picked up on that. Nonetheless, we toured the property which pretty much solidified our decision. The property was great; the clientele not so much.

We're trudging through the recreation center, around the pool and the putt putt golf course, and I'm seeing people that look like they would be...loud. They all looked like they list their hobbies as "partying" and "gettin hammered". I'm not going to say anything beyond that but you can probably imagine. A lot of them looked like the cast of "My Name is Earl" meets "Jersey Shore".

The tour was punctuated with announcements over the loudspeaker of different families who had just bought their piece of the dream, and where they were choosing to spend their first vacation. The announcer had the exhuberance of a Price is Right contestant, which prompted all the sales people around the property to clap wildly and high-five any fellow sales rep within 5 feet of them upon hearing his contagious enthusiasm.

Finally, we came back to the registration center for the sales pitch. Our sales rep did a fantastic job at showing us around and being a nice person but it just wasn't enough to commit us to vacationing in the same seven locations for the rest of our lives. When he realized he was getting nowhere, he summond the next guy up on the totem poll. This next-in-command sales guy landed at our table like he'd been dropped from the sky. He either needed some ADHD medication or a reduction in coffee intake. Maybe it was the latter because he was chewing vigorously on the only thing that is guaranteed to cover coffee breath, which is Strawberry Bubblicious. It was so strong I could smell it from across the table.

Bubblicious tried the full-court press by whipping out the catalog of destinations offered by their sister company that we could use seemingly any time, any place in a perfect world. I could see that Bubblicious was doing great with my son. He was very impressed with the selection of vacations and color photos of palatial suites that sit practically right on the beach or right at the bottom of the mountain. Trent could hardly believe we were passing up the deal of a lifetime.

Unfortunately for Bubblicious, Trent was not making the decision so it was still a big, fat "no". He went through the seven stages of grieving in the course of about 10 seconds, then told us he'd be back with our paperwork to claim our prizes.

You might think this is the end, but alas, there is a second act. Once you get your paperwork, you are shuffled into the "Awards Center", which is the least maintained building on the property. It's here that you sign in and wait. I don't know if the motif of the room was supposed to be "DMV waiting room" but if it was, they nailed it. I noticed there was a candy machine in the corner, and laughed. Before the tour, the Hershey Miniatures were free and plentiful. Now, they wanted a quarter for each one.

Thirty minutes later, our name was called and Neal was whisked into a back room where I was sure he would be granted one last chance to take advantage of this investment-of-a-lifetime. I was surprised when he emerged 10 minutes later with an American Express gift card and free passes to their water park facility, stress-free.

We felt like we'd been paroled and went straight to the water park. While it was a fun little place, I'm glad we didn't commit to it for the rest of our lives.