Tag Archives: cruise ships

Is that a Hose in Your Pocket? The Continuation.

Again:  Names have been changed to protect the guilty.  I still love you and don’t be angry.

 

All good things to me include:

Long walks on the beach.

Drinks at sunset.

Slow dancing in the moonlight.

Dancing on table tops.

And oddly enough….

Poking things with a stick…..that don’t need to be poked.

Sometimes, I can’t help myself….

 

Sound the alarm!  Sound the alarm!

 

URGENT!

 

URGENT!

 

The Nose has returned to the Martini Bar!

 

Yes, boys and girls, get you’re sticks out cause we’re going to go poking around.

Sit down.

Strap in.

Hold on.

Order up two shots cause we’re going for a ride and it’s going to be rough.

M E O W.

(Better make that a double M E OW and get out the hand sanitizer.)

 

THE PREVIOUS evening The Nose and I spoke for a bit and should you need the details, you’ll need to consult my previous blog.

Back in the saddle and looking for love, The Nose was deploying his creepy muskrat of the ocean moves and prowling the throat of one middle aged woman sitting at the bar.  This was off-putting, yet quite intriguing as The Nose was a vile and filthy creature who was very obviously an openly gay man and this was a public place.

Have I fallen down that damn rabbit hole….yet again?  I’m down this hole so often you’d think I’d have frequent flyer privileges at this point.  Upgrades?  Why yes, thank you.

Well, how is this going to turn out?

Popcorn anyone?

Immediately, this little spit-fire (that would be me for those of you who are ADD or ADHDA or whatever and can’t follow along) has sounded the alarm The Nose from last night has returned and he is making out with a woman!

Every single person I alerted had the same response:  WHAT?!  Are you sure?  Where?  How can that be?  Making out with a woman?

All eyes were plastered to what is now a FOURSOME at the end of the bar.  Please, let me introduce to you the players, who will become oh so important for you to know:

The Nose.  The Middle Aged Woman.  The Other Man.  The Younger Girl.

Cue the mystery music….

Time marches on and we’re all having fun.  Of course, this is how it always starts right?  I look down the bar…towards the Fab Four.  The Nose…..is kissing the neck of The Other Man.  Up his neck.  His ear.  Biting his ear lobe.  Back down his neck.  They’re laughing.  Okay.  I can handle this.  It’s fine.  Two lovers.  Okay, they’re together.  Well then, who the hell are these two ladies? The Nose is now all over The Middle Aged Woman again.  The Younger Girl is giggling and laughing.  The Other Man is clearly entertained.  I’m so confused.  Maybe the four of them are traveling together?

I have no idea.

I don’t care.

I’m going back to my drinks and enjoying the evening.  Minding my own business.

Suddenly Bernice motions for me to come and join her and our friend Cece from Alaska.  Both of them look like they’ve been told they’ll have to repeat eighth grade and the teachers only speak Latin.  WTF?  Bernice grabs my arm and tells me in a very German like manner to:    S I T.    SIT   DOWN!

Like an obedient petite Pitbull, cause I’d like to think that’s what I would be if I were to be a dog, if there were such a breed, …with rhinestone studded PINK collar of course – duh – I sit immediately.

WHAT?!  WHAT?!

Bernice and Cece both without saying a word just point to the bar.  I turn my head to the left.

HOLY FUCK!  ARE YOU?!  MOTHER!  *&^%^$  *#&)!  !!!  &^%$^$!!!

Let’s just say, I don’t need to see such things….. at EYE LEVEL.

The Nose…..

I can’t.

My eyeballs have been scorched out of their sockets.

The Nose has….

I mean really….

Eye level.

My tear ducts have shriveled up into twigs.

The Nose.

The Other Man.

At MY eye level.

The Other Man….has his hand down The Nose’s jeans…..fondling his ass!

Now they’re going to switch!  Let me put my hand down the back of your jeans.

R E A L L Y….

It’s porn right in front of my eyes.  (Now if it were a hot couple, okay.  But not this.)

>>>> time out <<<<<<

>>>>> I have to put my head between my knees <<<<<<<

.

.

.

.

.

.

Okay, so I’m all for going down the front of the pants.  Yes, I said it.  I’ll give you that.  It’s fun for you and me….especially if you can get away with it in public…..There’s all kinds of fun things to be found in the frontal regions.

M E O W to the tenth degree.

But your ass….in public?  Really?  O M G.  Did you smell that?  What was that odor?

Behind closed doors, ride that ass like it’s a fucking bucking bronco boys.   I don’t need to see this display at the bar.

Smelling salts anyone?

Oh for fuck’s sake.

.

.

.

.

Immediately, I launch myself out of my seat…..and land about 40 feet away, hyperventilating and leaving Bernice and Cece to deal with this performance which continued for quite some time.  I ordered another martini, downed it and enjoyed yet another.

About ten, fifteen, twenty minutes later…..Bernice and Cece managed to pry themselves away from their seats (I don’t know how they lasted so long in their spectator box seats – ahem) but they eventually joined the rest of us.

This is when I learned another friend of ours, having discovered The Fabulous Foursome….wanted to “push the envelope” with The Nose.

WHAT?  I mean who fucking does that?

Randy.

He can’t help himself.

He decided he wanted to see if he could he convince The Nose to buy him a drink.  Yeah sure and if The Nose says yes, Randy becomes a sex slave for the night.  THEN what the hell do you do – OMG!  The night would have lead to wild acrobatics in front of floor to ceiling mirrors and a swing above the bed.  Double bends and feet behind heads.  Hold this while I bend this over that.

Images gone wild in my head…..one moment please…..

Randy no doubt, sauntered up in his expertly designed and detailed blue suit and asked if The Nose would buy him a drink…..looking oh so cute and batting his baby-blues as only Randy can do…..making your knees go weak.

Survey says:  DENIED.

It’s okay Randy, we still love you and still think you’re cute.

Next drink is on me.

After hearing this story we turn around to see Cece at the bar chatting up The Middle Aged Woman.  Good god people, leave The Fabulous Foursome alone!  Clearly they are only into themselves and do not want our involvement into their torrid love affairs!  I mean really, do we want to be involved?  I don’t and I’ve even had my tetanus shots thank you!

Cece is chatting away, chatting away.  I mean truly, it could be the Alaskan thing.  I spent 18 years in Alaska and we do some weird shit in the winters.  So this may be some kind of weird calling…..on the high seas….but come on…..I HIGHLY doubt it…these are strangers.  We don’t swing with strangers.

Our little group by this time has broken out into a full on Super Bowl sweat.   We’ve ordered another round of martinis and are now actually patting the sweat away from under our armpits and upper lips with the tiny cocktail napkins.  WHAT is she doing?  Our imaginations are clearly getting the best of us.

When it’s gets to this point there is only one thing to do….send in The Minxy.

I march right up to the bar and lean in to hear what she’s saying.  I lean in so close I push her and her hand bag out of the way. All under the guise of trying to get the bartender’s attention.  (Now you know my trick incase I’m listening to your conversation.)

It’s a partial relief that she isn’t asking to join them.  On the other hand…..what is she promoting?  Safe sex?  I’m only catching bits and pieces:

“Just saying.  For your own good.  Of course.”

Staying just long enough to realize she isn’t making a pack to sell herself into an evening of bondage I walk back to the group and give the all clear sign:  SHE’S FINE!

Cece returns to tell us what her conversation was all about.

Apparently, Miss Manners aka Cece felt compelled to share peace and love with The Middle Aged Woman and advise her of the historical antics of The Nose from the prior evening.  Cece told her, “If you’re not careful, THIS could turn into a foursome.”

The Middle Aged Woman greatly appreciated all of Cece’s concerns and took each and every one of them to heart.  This resolved Cece of her resolve for doing the right thing and for sounding the alarm to a complete stranger.  Which by all means is the right thing to do….if you have a conscience. The MIddle Aged Woman told her there was certainly nothing to worry about.  Although they were having a great evening together – THIS is where the buck stops.

There will be NO Foursome, I am traveling with my daughter.

I do believe the next words out of Cece’s mouth were, “Another Fresca Martini Please!”

The rest of us looked at one another.  Nodded and said in unison, “to the disco!”

This was the last we saw of  The Nose

Anyone Want to Go to the Disco?

I am on a cruise ship.

For work.

It’s a conference.

The upside is that I will likely sleep like a dead person in a cold moseleum as the movement of any kind of boat puts me to sleep. 

The downside is I really want to go to the “disco” but don’t know that anyone would go.  I retract that.  Yes, there are people who would go if I asked.  But the catch is this…..one of my favorite songs would come on and then….guess what…..I’m not going out there to dance by myself.   It’s one thing to go and hang out it’s another to hit the dance floor if your favorite song comes on.  This is a problem.    Anyone want to go dancing?  (The question is currently echoing up and down the vast hallways of the oceanliner.  Pinging back and forth between the Martini bar and the photo gallery…..)  I’d actually have a better chance at meeting Davey Jones and getting my hands on his locker than getting someone to go dancing with me. 

Murp.

News Flash:  I’m not Billy Idol and I’m not Dancing with Myself at the disco….thank you.

What is even more patetic is at sail away this afternoon there were two couples out on the deck snapping pictures.  Mid-30’s.  At one point the girls commented, “This is the best picture yet of you guys….your butts.”  The one guy the proceeded to go and impersonate the Incredible Hulk or his power lifting skills or how the Pillsbury Dough Boy giggles at the airport x-ray – all I know is he was leaping around like a 250 pound ballerina that should have called it quits in second grade. 

Yep, we’re on a cruise.

They were well on their way to bliss.  Which, was later confirmed at the conclusion of second seating dinner when the same two couples was stumbling out of the dining room.  Apparently after too many Long Islands and Coronas already six hours into the cruise and the one husband was counseling his wife on how to be a nicer individual.  Wow.

Two minutes behind them was a gaggle of women in their 70’s wearing flashing LED sunglasses and necklaces.  They looked like they were dangerously on the prowl for some young 60 year old’s as they swaggered from side to side out to the hallway.   Edwin, hit the alarm, here come the Nannas!

Neither gang of guests looked like anything I’d want to encounter in a disco, let alone on an elevator going to the 4th floor.  Thank you, but I’ll take the stairs.  Good grief.

So ponder me this.  What do you think it means when your cabin has….

Not ONE

Not TWO

but

THREE

count them….THREE

full length ….floor to ceiling mirrors in front of the bed?  I checked the outside of the cabin and it CLEARLY doesn’t say I have the honeymoon suite.  I looked in the closets and didn’t find any weird ass bondage shit.  I thought there was a strange hook in the ceiling over the bed – like you’d hang a trapeze  or maybe a swing from it – M E O W – but it turns out it’s only  a sprinkler.  That was a little disappointing.

Seeing myself out of the edges of my eyesight as I write this is pretty fucking creepy.

Somoeone typing on a computer.

                               Just like me.

Someone wearing pajamas.

                             Just like me.

Someone with the same crazy ass hair style – aka  “a rat’s nest”

                             Just like me.

Someone wearing the same glasses.

                            Just like me.

WTF?!

If you’re going to put these mirrors in here maybe put some frosting over them or provide a video camera to record activity, provide the kinky shit or give us something to take the edge of the creepiness.  I’m not hip on seeing myself all the time. 

Sup?  How you doin’?

Don’t fret.  I’ve solved the problem. 

1 sheet + 1 strip of duct tape = bye bye weird ass mirrors.

 

 

 

 

They’re Baaack! Here Come the Tourists!

Oh the joys of summer in southeast Alaska.

Rain.  Clouds.  Rain.  Bears.  Clouds.  Cruise ships.  Rain.  Tourists.  Rain.

The first cruise ship of the season arrived into Juneau today.  I have worked in tourism since cell phones were non-existent and am in love with this industry.  Where else can you work and experience the feelings of happiness, envy, exasperation, shock and awe all in one afternoon?  Some days those feelings, and much more, are experienced within just an hour of trying to dispatch tours on the pier.

Tourists.

They’re a breed on to their own.  Not so much Homo sapiens but more like an alien life form.  How many times has someone asked me what port they’re in, what city, what country….too many times to count.  Really, they should have an inkling of where they’re going before they take off from the home port.  It amazes me how often people are stunned to learn Alaska is cold.

Really?

Yes, you see a majority of our guests believe Alaska is right off the coast of California and Mexico.  No, I’m not kidding.  Have you looked at a map of the United States over the last decade?  Here, I’ll share my bottle of Tums with you.

The flip side is they’re surprised to see we don’t live in igloos and actually have electricity.  But then are disappointed to learn there’s no gift shop on the glacier.

Have you ever argued with a tourist? Let me tell you, as a local, I know what I’m talking about.  Let’s see, I’ve lived in this town for the last 17 years and can guarantee you that really IS downtown Juneau across the street.  Nope, we’re not hiding a sprawling metropolis somewhere under the glacier – this is it.

One of the things I tell my guests, when I have to drive a 40′ motor coach, is first of all pick your jaws up off the floor.  I know I’m short but I’m big enough to ride the rides at Disney World, therefore I’m tall enough to drive the bus.  Second, really….you’re giving me a complex with taking my picture as I stand here talking to you.  Lastly, whatever you do, don’t blink as we leave town. If you blink you will miss downtown Juneau – guaranteed.

I was walking down the pier this afternoon and the gentleman in front of me did a double take when the police officer walked past.  He stopped so short I nearly walked right up his back side.  Yep.  We’ve got walking police officers – crazy isn’t it?

Since I’m a people watcher, I love tourists.  The outfits.  The families.  The upset couples.  The crew members coming off the ship.  The outfits.  I love our guests who are trying to blend in with the locals.  Wearing snowsuits and ski suits does not make you a local.  Not kidding – I’ve seen it.  Whole families bundled up like they’re headed out into the Antarctic wilderness.  Or the fur coats and high heels.  No, you can’t wear those heels on the glacier.  While you think they’ll act like an ice axe, I’m here to tell you they’re going to break your ankle.  Both of them.

It’s 65 degrees out.  The ear muffs, scarfs, gloves and downy coat makes me sweat.  The brand new hiking boots kill me – cause apparently we’re all about rugged dirt roads and mud puddles.

The other thing that gets me are the picture takers.  Have you ever wondered what people are taking a photo of?  I do.  I’ve stood behind people trying to figure out what they’re taking photos of and have given up.  Is it an eagle?  Nope.  The tram-car?  No.  A waterfall?  Notta.  What the heck is it then?  An old semi trailer and trees.  Really?  And what’s with the license plate photos?  I never understood this and yet see it all the time.  Yep.  It says Alaska.  They’re not even fabulous looking.  I guarantee you walk through a parking lot and you’ll see someone bending over to snap a photo of our blue and yellow plates.  Weird, but it takes all kinds.

Cheers to another season of fun and head scratching moments.  I can’t wait!