Save our ships
Despite wat you may think, my first cruise was not on the Nina, Pinta or Santa Maria. Or the Ark, fuck you very much. But I have been plying the water for quite a few years now, and feel safe in saying the old white tugs, they ain’t what they used to be.
I have had time to reflect on this because Sis and I are once again afloat for a fleeting while. The Jamaican plumber and the Russian refrigeration specialist are arguing over which department is to blame for the leak in our ceiling. Since the ruskie is currently IN our ceiling, I’d say he is losing.
It has been with some disappointment that I have experienced the decline of cruise ship luxuries - such as a dry place to sit - in order to allow just about anyone to have fun. But the particular cattle car, sardine can, cruise ship we’re now on has sunk to new lows.
I offer for your consideration:
- There are no free little bottles of shampoo in fragrances like Papaya Kiwi or Tropical Temptress. Just a spigot in the so-called shower that pumps out globs of Goo Gone.
- Likewise, don’t count on the Honey Vanilla conditioner or Green Tea Cucumber body wash. See aforementioned spigot.
- They’ve cut back on Qtips, too, so how am I expected to maintain clear ears? Bring my own supplies, I hear you ask? But, my dear, that’s just crap.
- And so is the coffee. That’s OK, though, since nobody will hustle you up a second cup.
- If you’d like a second towel, it’s cause for an environmental lecture. My need for dry hair is as great a disaster as their need to dump their bilge into the ocean.
- No one has left a mint on my pillow which actually could be a good thing since, in a stupor from one too many Maui Powies, I might have embedded it in my cheek.
- The Daily Blat lists two completely different destinations as our next port of call. Apparently the staff is scared to ask the captain. See aforementioned Maui Powies.
Elitist? You bet. If cruising gets any less luxurious, they’ll start calling it the U.S. Navy.
