Poseidon – 2★: “Too Much Salt”

Poseidon – 2★: “Too Much Salt”

I booked a voyage with Poseidon after reading decent reviews about his “unparalleled control of the sea.” False advertising. The experience began promisingly enough—azure waters, dolphins performing synchronized brand engagement—but quickly devolved into what I can only describe as an emotional shipwreck sponsored by hubris.

I don’t mind a little sea spray, but the man poured the entire Aegean on me. Every prayer answered with a wave that screamed, “Know your place, mortal.” I tried to leave feedback mid-tempest, but his “customer portal” is just the sound of conch shells mocking you.

Amenities and Ambiance

Yes, the Underwater Kingdom is gorgeous—if you enjoy drowning in style. Pearlescent floors, bioluminescent lighting, and a haunting chorus of Sirens humming something that sounds like Lana Del Rey. The vibe is “five-star spa meets haunted cathedral.” Unfortunately, all drinks are salty and the Wi-Fi is cursed.

Guests report difficulty breathing, which Poseidon insists is part of the “immersive aquatic experience.” It’s technically true—you can’t get more immersive than dying in the product.

The Trident Experience

The brochure said “interactive power demonstration.” It did not specify earthquake. When I asked for a rain delay, Poseidon laughed and generated a small tsunami. Enthusiasm is admirable, but I prefer my excursions without structural damage.

Also, safety protocols? Nonexistent. When I raised a concern, a Nereid told me to “sign the waiver carved into coral.” I couldn’t—my pen floated away.

Pricing and Value

Sacrificial bull pricing model remains opaque. Bulls are expensive. Outcomes are inconsistent. One local claims he got fair winds; another lost three generations to a whirlpool. Poseidon’s “premium devotion tier” is basically a raffle for mercy.

I offered a symbolic seashell once. He sent me a hurricane. Great ROI if you’re into biblical consequences.

Customer Service

Poseidon’s approach to customer relations could best be described as reactive. If he likes you, he blesses your voyage. If not, you meet the abyss. There’s no escalation team—only tremors. His communication style relies on omens, tides, and passive-aggressive seagulls.

No contact number. No chat support. Just the eternal sound of waves crashing as you question your life choices.

Bonus Offer: The Horse Creation Service

In fairness, Poseidon did offer me a horse. A lovely gesture, though I was mid-shipwreck and would’ve preferred a flotation device. Still, impressive craftsmanship. The mane glowed faintly. The horse screamed in ancient Greek. I gave it a gentle pat and it bolted across the waves, probably toward HR.

Competitor Comparison

Zeus, while an egomaniac, at least delivers lightning on time. Athena answers prayers with bullet-point clarity. Even Hades provides reliable afterlife access with minimal bureaucracy. Poseidon, meanwhile, behaves like the manager who thinks “storm surge” counts as customer engagement.

Final Verdict

Poseidon delivers unforgettable experiences—mostly because trauma has a long memory. The ambiance is stunning, the power undeniable, but the service? Volatile.

Two stars. Would not sail again unless heavily sedated or reincarnated as coral.

Pros: Scenic views, aesthetic palace, complimentary horse.
Cons: Drowning hazard, excessive salt, omnipotent mood swings.

“Too much salt,” indeed—but mostly in the attitude.