Tuesday, May 24, 2011


Worry, this is slightly out of order but I forgot this one. I left early Saturday morning to get the few things I needed before heading overseas. I ran a few errands in the morning before heading back to the ship and by the time I returned I was already running late and nearly forgot to leave my key for the person who will be driving my car while I’m gone so I bolted back to the ship, noticing an excessive amount of bugs in the air. These flying nemeses I later learned are called Love bugs, little lightning bug-looking things that fly around in pairs, mate for two weeks and die. So I quickly changed into my work uniform and headed upstairs to discover that we had been invaded. These little suckers were everywhere, all the way up the gangway. In fact we had to close two decks and postpone a deck party. Sweaty guests who’d mortgaged their homes and saved for years to be part of this once in a lifetime transatlantic passage arrived flustered and angry, swatting at the air and we had to hold back our revulsion and (ok, my inappropriate amusement) because several guests still had the interloping fornicators crawling across their faces. One guest actually attacked me and started hitting me shouting, “they’re all over you, they’re all over you, they’re on your neck.” Please stop hitting me!

As we were still debating how we were going to sing without swallowing at the sail-away and the proper usage of streamers as flyswatters, the skies grew dark and the waters began to swirl and foam. We were overtaken with a storm that drove the bugs southward to the ground where they continued their gruesome love dance as they drowned in a mass insect orgy. I told our security staff if the waters turned red and started to boil, I was heading down the gangway. I offered to set an impromptu confessional…you know…just in case anyone had anything he needed to get off his chest. No wonder we had so few children…tradition dictates the slaying of the firstborn male so…and of course, we were approaching the Rapture.

But of course, all this happened before the coast guard required outdoor guest drill. I have never been so happy to be in the interior auxilliary overflow area. Who has two thumbs and is thrilled for the inconvenient indoor space? This girl! I didn’t know it at the time but I learned we did have a third plague of brush fires in the parking area.

No comments:

Post a Comment