Ski Resorts

Perhaps it was my 'Aspie' dislike of crowds.
Perhaps the glossiness of the thin facades.
Maybe the faux Europe style of architecture that grated.
The "wankiness" of the beverages and confectionery on sale.
I could not put my finger on it,
The discomfort I felt,
When we arrived at the resort.

I enjoyed the drive, despite the heavy traffic.
The uniqueness of Snow-gum woodland, snow covered,
The rounded rocks and herbage of the fast flowing crystal creeks.
I was especially drawn to those.
The air too and the snow deadened quiet.
The company was good and tobogganing promised to be fun.
Yet...

The resort was a Formica table in a Georgian mansion.
The surface cleaned to such a sheen that the reflected light blinded me.
No trees, just snow and bitumen.
The beautiful people were pretentious and orchestrated.
The uncool "wannabes" tried too hard, used far too much peroxide,
Squeezed bulgy bodies into unflattering snowsuits,
And wore excessive putty-like make-up.
Families with screaming toddlers,
Tortured by freezing hands,
Made half smiles and took multitudes of photos,
Proof that they were afluent enough to be here and were having fun (sic).

Perhaps if I had skied I may have had a different attitude,
I doubt it,
Because tobogganing did turn out to be mostly fun.