Don't Give Up The Ship

We woke up to mild confusion, because we were supposed to arrive in Grand Cayman on our third day, but the boat was still distinctly rocking. Not at all as badly as the past couple days, but still moving. We did hear the tender boat tickets being called though, so we sent an ambassador (The Weege) to go get us some tickets. That sounds like we forced the foreigner to do our bidding, but it only sounds like that because you haven't ever woken up in the same room as The Weege. She's up maybe 10 minutes before she is like "OKAY LET'S GO" which I guess is a combo of her perpetual energy and her deep and obsessive love for food and resulting need for immediate breakfast. It's a little scary. So we distracted her with the ticket mission, and lolled around for a little bit before she came back for a second round of pestering that finally got us out of bed. We walked upstairs to see the amazing Caribbean water and a small fleet of cruise ships waiting out the windows with the sun shining down over all of it. It was so freaking cool. There were probably about 6 other cruise ships out there, all anchored.

On Scarlett's last cruise, the timing worked out perfectly where they got their tickets and then did breakfast...they finished their meal just as their number was called. So we attempted to do the same, but I think since we were on a later tender boat, they were really zipping them out, so we had barely sat down before our ticket was called. When we heard it, The Weege started SHOVING food into her mouth, as though there would be no food for the REST OF THE DAY. I had a couple portable food things, so I just took those for the walk down to the tender, but The Weege was harfing down piles of pancakes, everything, until we finally just grabbed her and hauled her down to the boat. It was still fairly rocky, so you had to do a sort of trench run across the gangway - I almost had to double up to get under the porthole-door-thing of the ship as the cruise ship went down and the tender boat went up. It took about three YEARS to get to the island, which was mildly infuriating since...let's get to the BEACH already, people, but I was so fascinated by the color of the water that I kind of tuned out. I would like to note that on this tender boat, no one tried to sell us any fucking jewelry or tee shirts, for which I am grateful.

Got off the boat, got attacked by cameras. If you haven't been on a cruise you may not know this, and for all I know, it's strictly a Royal Caribbean thing, but they LOVE taking your picture. Every time you turn around, some RC person is shoving a camera in your face. Now, at this point, we have my standard aversion to cameras, and The Weege's face has now BLISTERED and she's extra-super self-concious about it, so we both reacted to this poor RC guy like we were vampires and he was wielding a garlic braid with a mirror taped to his forehead. There was also some dude dressed as a pirate, which I obviously loved because I am five, so I gave him a good "ARRRRR" before Scarlett finally caught up with us (she got stuck behind some old people) and I figured I should cut the pirate crap. This is why I should go on a cruise with The Marine and Diamond Lil...they would be right there with the pirate adventures. We headed up the street to browse the stores, and that was when I sort of figured out how this whole port city thing was going to be.

I had a recurring issue with the port city concept, that being that I desperately want to visit every place on the planet. My grandmother has given me a subscription to Smithsonian magazine for several Christmases now, and it is both the best and worst gift ever...on the one hand they always do SUCH awesome stories on all these exotic locales and stuff, which are interesting and unusual, but the problem is that I then want to GO to all of these places. So, when we were going to Cayman, I wanted to see a little bit of the actual Cayman Islands, which is definitely not what Georgetown's port area is. It's basically like taking the Natick Mall and painting it bright colors...there were plenty of little souvenir shacks with hand made stuff, but it was the SAME handmade stuff that you see in all tropical areas. Little critters made of coconuts and shells, stuff like that. So anyway, as much as I would LOVE to own stuff from Mikimoto, if I decided to buy it, I would go to a mall AT HOME, when I wasn't in the middle of the spending orgy that constitutes a cruise. I felt like I wasn't really seeing Cayman, which I guess is not why you go on a cruise if you're smart, but I just thought it was worth noting. NOT that this means I didn't have a blast, because I did.

We finished looking at the shops without really buying anything, and then headed back towards the pier to catch a cab to the beach. En route, we saw this one woman completely randomly fall over and crash land at the feet of this giant pirate statue, which was more hilarious than I can probably explain here...she just LAY there, spread eagled, clearly in that kind of total "how did I wind up on the GROUND" shock that you usually see in kids. We found this total sketchpad of a taxi, which I was pretty sure was going to kidnap us, driven by one dude who was obviously the driver, and co-piloted by some weird guy who we couldn't firmly identify as a driver or a random tourist. Quite the mystery. In any case, they did NOT kidnap us, and took us to the beach at the Royal Palms where we paid $5 each for a goddamn beach chair, and spent a few hours alternating baking in the sun and going in the wonderful cool, beautiful, EXTRA salty water...it was so buoyant that I could hardly get my feet down when I floated on my back. At one point I told The Weege the salt water would be good for her face, which prompted her to go in the water and REFUSE TO COME OUT. Good times. Scarlett and I had a beer, then we all headed back to the taxi stand, where we got placed in a bus carrying more people than you would ever have thought possible. It wasn't quite the Egyptian levels of people hanging out of doors and windows, but you all sat in seats, and then there were FOLD OUT SEATS in the aisles that people got put in! It was insane. We then walked back to the tenders from the taxi drop off point. Now, as we've established, The Weege was paranoid about her face. It honestly did look pretty bad, but at this point, pretty much only WE knew it looked bad because we inspected it up close at various points when she was freaking out about it in the room. To anyone else, who didn't know to look for stuff like blisters, she just looked sunburned, which EVERYONE ON THE SHIP WAS. Nevertheless, she continued to act like a complete psycho about this, and was walking around with her baseball cap pulled SO FAR DOWN ON HER FACE that she couldn't even see anything above like...knee level ahead of her. If there had been a mailbox or something sticking off a building at chest level, she would have gotten clotheslined and never seen it coming. Scarlett spent the whole walk back to the tenders yelling at her that she looked like an escapee from some kind of institution (she did) and that she was going to get us all arrested just for looking suspicious (amazed we didn't), and to stop looking like a goddamn weirdo. She declined on all counts.

Back on the ship, The Weege and I went to check our email while Scarlett headed for the pool deck to lay out. We all reconvened on the pool deck, at which point The Mexican stopped by and asked Scarlett if she was "okay today" which impressed me because if I had dealt with her in psycho mode as she was the night before I probably would have either run or thrown a drink on her. When she answered in the affirmative, he asked again, just to check, and then chatted shortly before he went off to bring drinky liquid joy to other, non-insane people, and we headed for the hot tubs. The DR appeared shortly, and The Weege and I made eye-rolling faces while Scarlett pointlessly grilled him on why he had gone to the beach with The Mexican instead of with her, until he left, presumably also to get a break from the crazy. Shortly thereafter, a bunch of people NOT WELL VERSED IN HOT TUB ETIQUETTE decided that although there were three adult women in the hot tub, it was as good a time as any to try and cram about 8 other people in there, so we left to go to dinner, where we heard from Neil Diamond and the Missourienne that their credit union didn't accept transactions posted from Mexico (I have no idea) so they tried to pay for something that of course was like $3, and the card was denied so they had to look around for anyone from the ship who might decide to be their friends for a $3 friendship fee and needless to say they were a little stressy. It all worked out in the end though.

We then headed for the Schooner Bar for some drinks, but I was feeling icky so I went to crash. I really only needed a little nap, I think, because when I woke up I felt fine, but I was SO PISSED that I missed out on the hilarity that ensued once I left. I was also pissed because SEVERAL TIMES, Scarlett went to our cabin and harassed The Weege about sleeping and hauled her out of bed...I wish she had done so with me that night, but it was not to be, apparently.

As previously noted, The Weege was just getting to know Scarlett, so I guess they started chatting about Scarlett's past, present and future career situation, which started with an aim towards news, currently is at a DC think tank, and the future is in flux until she figures out how she feels about a variety of variables. The mention of news, however, prompted a seriously insane man to come over and abruptly announce that he could not help overhearing them, had worked at K-something-or-other in New Orleans for a number of years and that they should "feel free to pick his brain." And then sat down and remained perfectly silent while awaiting questions. I can only assume that Scarlett was not drunk enough to either tell him to get lost or just flat out ignore him, because she started asking him questions, mostly for politeness' sake. With every question it became more apparent that if in fact he HAD worked for K-whatever, he'd probably put them out of business, since he knew nothing despite Scarlett's tossing him total fluff questions. Luckily, Scarlett and The Weege didn't need to agonize over the debate between whether he was so drunk he couldn't remember anything useful or whether he'd just never worked in news, because his equally nutty wife showed up to join the party. The Weege was fascinated by these people and started asking the WIFE questions, at which time the wife declares that she used to be an opera singer but now works for the Department of Homeland Security. Oooookay. So naturally at this point they asked her if she was going to sing in the karaoke (we all got a little obsessed with the karaoke once we discovered how GOOD the contestants were...seriously, these people rocked. Not that it was 100% suck free, but still...by and large there was awesomeness.), and the wife said no, there was some tragic accident and she doesn't sing anymore. Scarlett, presumably at this point lubed up enough to call bullshit, asked why she didn't sing anymore, since clearly she could talk, et cetera, and the woman launches into this whole "oh it takes me a month to even train for a performance and it just became too much" routine, which...hold up here for a minute.

First of all, don't be That Guy. This is KARAOKE ON A CRUISE SHIP. It's not a performance. It's karaoke. Sucking is half the fun. If you are That Guy, the one who gets all "it is my craaaaaah-ft" about any aspect of singing no matter what, just stop. No one's coming to you begging you to put on Carmen because the on-board lounge singer fell overboard. It's kara-fucking-oke. Second of all, bullshit. Total bullshit. Many-to-all of the people reading this know that I sang in high school. I did a LOT of singing, and I was good at it. I did a HELL of a lot of opera, and I did it as a soprano. It DOES take a lot of work to stay loose and to rehearse for a performance, but it does not take you a fucking month to be able to sing, which is basically what this woman was insinuating. And especially if this is your JOB as this woman was claiming, you're not starting from scratch. You have rehearsals and practice time and daily routines, and that keeps your voice loose. So don't sell that shit here, we're all stocked up. Needless to say, I wish I was there.

Back to the story, the waitress comes over to take drink orders, at which point the Weirdo Couple insists violently on buying Scarlett a drink, which prompted a certain level of concern that these people were going to proposition Scarlett and The Weege for some kind of deviant sexual activity. They then proceed to get even weirder by explaining that they never get off the ship, at any of the ports, and that the mere concept of getting off the boat is stupid. They then went on to explain that Scarlett and The Weege should ALSO never get off the boat, and for every thing that Scarlett and The Weege said they wanted to do off the ship, the Weirdos had an answer:

The Weege: Well we want to see the sights and do some shopping.
Weirdo Lady: But you could go to the spa instead!

Okay, Weirdos? STAY AT HOME AND GO TO THE SPA. Lord. So odd. After discussing the reasons to never ever leave the ship (I'm sure there's some kind of commentary on how Americans drive everywhere and don't like leaving their vehicles in here somewhere), the female psycho hops up and is all "well this has been great but time for bed kthxbye," stops to HAUL her passed out husband out of his chair, and the wander off merrily into the night.

The ladies, having survived the Psycho Family Encounter, moved on to the South Pacific lounge for the Karaoke, where they ran into a woman we nicknamed Texas because every time we saw her (and this held true for the entire cruise) she had GIGANTIC BOUFFY HAIR of the variety you see at Texas Country Fairs. Now, if there is anyone who promotes big hair it is me (I more or less want to look like the Country Music Awards every day) but this was not the good kind. It just looked so odd and outdated on her. But in any case it turned out she was fairly nice and Scarlett actually chatted with her a bunch of times during the week. They sat down with Texas and her boyfriend who I guess we'll call just plain Tex, and Texas was all excited because she was going to sing karaoke, and Tex was Cheerleader Number One all talking about how great she was and how Scarlett and The Weege were going to be blown away and fall off their chairs from the sheer fabulousity of it all. She headed up to sign up for karaoke and in the meantime, presumably to keep himself occupied, Just Plain Tex decided to start hitting on Scarlett and The Weege. This continued EVEN WHEN TEXAS RETURNED (and at other points during the cruise)...he would be sitting there WITH TEXAS BETWEEN HIM AND SCARLETT, with his arm around Texas but like...caressing Scarlett's arm. I think we can all agree - total creepster. However, this was NOT the man who would win the Creepster of the Week award! That is a story for another day.

Texas comes back and details how the crazed woman who ran these karaoke shindigs got shirty with her about her song choice, telling her that the Whitney Houston song Texas had chosen was "very difficult" and thus Texas had to sing Cher's "Believe" DESPITE the fact that Texas had informed this woman that she was MISS TEEN LOUISIANA thank you very much and she could sing her ass off. Let's just talk about the Karaoke Lady for a sec. I know that it's a cruise ship and it's a jokey, fun competition, but this woman was just INSTANTLY irritating. Her persona was "Flashy" which necessitated dressing in head-to-toe zebra print and black and white polka dots, and her gimmick was that she was a talent agent, so she'd have a little patter between contestants about how she had a great offer for them like...a Waffle House tour. And then there was this horrendous shit about how she would yell "Howdid'edooooo" at us each time (you might have to say that out loud to understand that it's a bad-Southern-accented bastardization of "how did they do") and insist that we reply "great!" not once but twice after every performance. I'm sure she's a lovely woman in person but I definitely spent about 3 total hours of my week hating her with a passion, and 3 hours in a week is a lot for someone who I saw in maybe 2 minute doses.

This was the night that Neil Diamond sang, too, so you can see why I am pissed I missed it. The judging was done American Idol style, with three judges and they actually did NOT pass Neil through to the finals (to be held on the last night of the ship) which by all accounts was just foolishness because he rocked it out. Scarlett went to the bathroom at some point and got distracted by The DR on her return trip, so she stood at the back to watch the Grand Performance of Texas, which was in Scarlett's words, "HORRID" but according to The Weege was fantastic so I guess it evens out to mediocre, although it is worth noting that singing makes The Weege giggle uncontrollably (I....don't know). I first discovered this phenomenon when we were at a Sharks game and she giggled through the whole National Anthem. The ladies departed, discussing the outrage of Neil's non-finalist status with him and the Missourienne, and headed for the midnight pool party.

We were met with varying degrees of actual concern over The Weege's age over the course of the cruise. By the end of the week, we're fairly sure that the whole bar staff KNEW she was undersage, but were so awed by the general ruckus-raising that they didn't really care. This still didn't really lead to a lot of drinking on The Weege's part, for some reason...that remains kind of mysterious to me. But in any case, they ordered up two rum and Cokes from one of the few blonde waiters on the ship, who asked The Weege if she was 21 roughly eighty seven million times, OCD-style, until Scarlett finally made the College Roommates Lie stick.

On a side note, to really appreciate the College Roommates Lie, you need more information. One night when we were at the Schooner and Scarlett was extremely drunk (possibly our second day at sea), she was pushing the CRL on The Peruvian very hard, because he got kind of "but you look kind of young" about it...not like he'd stop serving her, but just observing. It did help our case that Scarlett looks youngish for our age, too. But anyway, Scarlett pulled out HER drivers license to show The Peruvian, which reassured him and ended the discussion. Well, Scarlett's drunken brain logged exactly one piece of information from this experience - that her ID would work as proof of ALL of our ages whenever necessary. Thus, later in the trip when we were questioned about it, I believe at the Viking Lounge, a Once Again Drunk Scarlett bellowed "we're college roommates! Wanna see my ID?!" while waving her license around. Luckily, the bouncer remembered us from previous nights and just said "she's okay, I got her the other day, let them in," probably while adding on "even Drunkie over there" in his head.

In any case, the blonde bar guy comes back with the drinks and asks AGAIN if The Weege is 21, at which point Scarlett has Had It with this and is like "okay, the drinks? They are poured. Just hand them over already." About three seconds after this victory is secured, The Weege decides that she has to leave because her face is hurting. She did this a lot - "but my face really hurts!" "you're SUNBURNED." - all of a sudden although nothing had changed, she would maybe just remember that her face was sunburned? And go...tinker with it? Of course, for all I know, the pain level DID change, but I think she was also fairly worried and neurotic about it, along with a dose of self-conciousness, so she just would reach a breaking point and want to be out of the public eye for a bit as it were. Scarlett pointed out that she had JUST ordered a drink for the The Weege, but she insisted on going back to at least put water (???) on her face. Scarlett finally gave in but told her that she absolutely had to go back to the pool party and TELL Scarlett if she decided to change her plans and go to bed or something. Since Scarlett and I have been discussing the trip to fill our lonely, non-Caribbean workdays, I'm realizing that The Weege must have wanted to murder us because every single time she was going out of arm's reach, one or both of us would tell her that she HAD to tell us if she was going somewhere else. This started after the Great SuperBowl Disappearance of Ought Seven, and while I understand it must have been annoying, holy bringing it on your self, Batman. Don't want people to get paranoid about you going to the bathroom? Don't mysteriously vanish. I just never realized we were doubling up on this kind of warning until a couple days ago, but I kind of love it.

"Needless to say", as Scarlett so aptly put it, by the time The Weege had returned, she had finished her own drink and moved on to The Weege's, and had also located The DR, so the poor Weege trekked up to the 9th floor from the 3rd (we generally resisted the elevators because they took forEVER...the stairs were pretty tiring sometimes, but on the other hand, I credit them with my only gaining about half a pound on the cruise, so I'll take it.) only to be told to go away by Scarlett. Good stuff. Eventually, Scarlett came back to the cabin, and after taking a phone call to arrange their sneak-date for the next day in Costa Maya, peacefully drifted off to sleep after frantically recapping the events of the night.

The picture of sobriety in the Schooner Bar...actually, and I know this sounds like bullshit because I have said it twice now, but I don't actually think Scarlett is drunk here. I think she's mostly just making a weird face. We have discussed this and while we do admit the POSSIBILITY of intoxication, but agree that we don't think she was that hammered that early.