By: Esha Bagora

Public Relations Manager

I spent my Thanksgiving Break in San Diego. Despite visiting many notable places like Legoland, Universal Studios, and the most overpriced breakfast cafe in the world, one of the experiences that stood out to me the most was when my family and I went to the San Diego Zoo. It was an experience made of many smaller incidents, so let me rate the most humiliating and entertaining ones. 

In some mysterious and unknown fashion, our tickets to the San Diego Zoo ended up in a trash can. When we tried to enter the park using the PDF version of our tickets, we couldn’t get in. Then, when none of my family members wanted to ask (beg) the ticket operators to reprint them, I had to. If you heard the scream of a banshee while entering the San Diego Zoo, it was me. I groveled and cried for the reprinting of those tickets for almost an hour and a half…and it worked. Six out of ten experience, but at least we got the tickets in the end. 

Immediately upon entering the park, I tried to lead my family in an organized manner to maximize our time after I spent so much time seducing the ticket lady into printing our tickets. Of course, as luck would have it, my younger sister became enraptured with the idea of wanting to see the hummingbird exhibit. How long was the line for it, you might ask? It was nearly a two-hour wait. We waited for almost half an hour when a lizard scampered over my toes. Was it a garden lizard simply surveying the premises? Was it a recently-escaped, exotic, possibly-endangered lizard from one of the reptilian exhibits nearby? Who knows, and more importantly, who wants to know? After promptly leaving the line, I couldn’t enjoy the reptilian exhibits without remembering the scaly lizard brushing over my toes. Two out of ten experience: absolutely would not do again, and I didn’t even get to see the hummingbirds. 

The last and, arguably most, traumatic experience was when my sister and I got our caricatures done. We sat down, and I thought my portrait-artist was a chill dude. He talked about the different exhibits at the zoo, different kinds of sharks he’s seen while surfing in San Diego, and other fun and exciting things. Nothing could’ve prepared me for actually seeing the caricature. I would’ve assumed that due to our intellectual and bonding conversation, I would’ve been drawn in a marginally attractive or at least realistic light. That absolutely did not happen. I can’t even put into words the crushing disappointment when I saw the art piece. After getting back to the hotel room, I cried in the shower. Zero out of ten experience: I have no words. 

While there were definitely other dizzying experiences (why is there a polar bear in SoCal?) these were arguably the worst. I’m still in the process of rebuilding my ego following the caricature incident.