At sea/Cozumel

December 4th-5th
At sea/Cozumel

I usually don’t combine sea days with port days where I get off the ship, but this post needs to incorporate both days…yeah, it’s complicated.

Anyways, the sea day started like any other usual sea day leaving Florida, with me waking up early to go do the discover shopping show that I’ve done every Caribbean Cruise. The show was fine, same as always aside for bringing in an extra person to help sell books. The show generally goes from 10 till 11am, which should have been fine for the 11:30 tech run that I was under the impression we were having. At right around 11, one of my friends/manager of Studio B (where the show was being held) informed me Justin (musical director) had just called her to let me know that a) I’m late, b) I owe a case, and c) Run! Apparently I just misread the schedule, confused the time with previous tech runs we’ve had, and was on the other side of the ship when they were scheduled to raise the pit and start the show. It’s no big deal because I made it there in time to not severely delay the start of the tech run, something the dancers have recently been accountable for 90% of the time, and Justin was cool about everything. They joked when I walked in, informing me of my new nickname of “side-job”, and we started the rehearsal. About b), the case thing – the rule among the musicians is that if someone is late, screws up a part really bad, or just does something really dumb that could possibly get them in trouble, all is forgiven if the perpetrator buys a case of beer. Once before I owed a case for missing an entrance to get on stage because I was reading a book back stage and didn’t hear the call to go out, this case makes #2 in over 4 months, so not too bad I guess. I was kind of upset with myself for just nullifying 3 hours of work for $30 with suddenly owing a $30 case of beer, but everyone thought it was funny, so I went along with it. It worked out well though because the next day was Ron’s Birthday, the drummer of the orchestra. He’s one of the people who has been on ships for quite some time, and has one of those fun personalities where he’s all about having a good time, making friends, and enjoying each day as it comes at him. I knew he was going to be having a party anyways, so now I could buy the case for him so that everyone would have drinks. The remainder of the day wasn’t anything too spectacular, just two production shows of Now and Forever, but it was that night that the story really begins.
There was a crew party that night thrown by crew welfare, something that happens every month. These parties are just big get togethers on the back deck, usually with food, and always with free beer. Now from those of you who know me well from back home, you know I’m not a drinker, and my college friends can verify I didn’t drink at all till after my 21st birthday, but being on a ship where it drinking has become so firmly entwined with the social scene, it’s impossible to go out and meet people without at least a beer. I still rarely drink, but because of my low tolerance, it doesn’t take a lot before I start having a little more fun than usual. So anyways, I went to the back deck with Ron to check out the party, grab some food, get a few free drinks, and then get to the theater to see the late night comedy act that was going on. The act was good, some new York comedian, and we both headed back to Ron’s room to drop off our empty glasses. By that point it was about 1 am, now officially his Birthday, and we both walked up to the Dungeon (nightclub) to heck out what was going on. The combination of an American guest list and these short cruises means the Dungeon is much more busy on a nightly basis than it ever was in the Med. So Ron and I are standing up on the top floor looking down at the people dancing below us, when this guy next to me starts up a conversation. He’s a bald black guy, probably in his late 30’s, and he recognizes Ron and I from the orchestra and compliments the band. To make conversation and get Ron involved, I mention that it’s now his Birthday, at which point our new friend insists on buying a round of drinks. He gets Ron a refill on a Vodka Tonic, and brings me a beer despite my requests that he doesn’t get me anything. Additionally, he brings over some sort of shot for us all to drink, of which I still don’t know what it was. So we start talking again, and he mentions that’s he’s here with the installation crew for the new dance cast. He asks if I’ve met the choreographer, Karen (who I haven’t), lets me know he’s leaving at the end of this cruise, and somewhere had thrown in there the point that he’s bisexual. I’m sure it was mentioned at some point slightly less random than I just made it seem, but regardless, it came across as a fact that he just threw out there. I don’t exactly know how to respond, and just continue on talking to him about whatever. Eventually I need a bathroom break from the multiple drinks I’ve had, and have difficulty excusing myself from the conversation without making him a promise to come back to the Dungeon. I kind of wanted to go back to my room, but came back because I couldn’t ditch Ron, and start talking to my new friend again. He buys everyone another round of drinks at about this time, Ron kind of wanders off, and things get slightly more interesting.

This is the point where my younger readers, as in under 16, might need parental approval before continuing on…not that it’s bad, but because the subject matter is slightly more adult. So if you’re in that age group, ask your parents to read this first before you read it, not because I think it’s necessarily any worse than what’s in the media and movies, but because I really don’t want to get in trouble with anyone. You don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?

Anyways…at the next lull in the conversation, he looks at me and says “you’re beautiful”. The Dungeon is a loud place, I can’t hear half of what he’s saying anyways, so I just look and nod, maybe say OK, but obviously don’t understand what he said. So he restates, “did you hear me? I said, you’re beautiful.” I wouldn’t know how to really handle that situation completely sober, so you can imagine I found it slightly awkward being inebriated (I did look good though, I had my tux on because it was formal night, ha). I guess I just brushed it off with a “thanks?” or some other not exactly appreciative remark, and tried to continue the conversation, aiming towards more heterosexual topic matter. Unfortunately, he continues on with the remarks, complimenting me on being beautiful and having an amazing personality…which as a side note, means very little coming from someone I’ve known for 15 minutes, but that’s besides the point. He guesses my age at 24, I correct him by saying 22, at which point he responds with “you’re a big boy for 22”, yet another comment I don’t really have a response for, regardless of blood-alcohol content. Why at that point I didn’t walk away, I’ll never know, perhaps I just liked the attention regardless of the implications, but I continued talking, if you can consider awkward responses, confused shrugs, and nervous laughter talking. So we continue on, and him guessing at the level of my intoxication, recommends that I get something to eat. So his idea, go back to his room and order pizza from room service…uhhh, how ‘bout not. Now I’ve had some drinks, but I’m not an idiot, and try to communicate that I really don’t want to go back to his room for pizza without tarnishing my “amazing” personality. So I dodge that first bullet, and the conversation continues. He then shows me that he has an extra key to Karen’s room, the choreographer that I don’t know, and displays it and talks about it to me like it’s some great source of pride for him. “Would you rather go to Karen’s room and get pizza” he asks me. Again, no, not really, sorry, sounds like a great time but I can’t, or whatever I managed to say to try to get out of whatever he had in mind. Then somehow the conversation gets on his 11 year old niece and the BMW he claims to have bought for her. I’m relieved that the conversation has changed to cars, despite it being something I know very little about, at least it’s something that doesn’t include pizza in his room. So I say I really like BMW’s, he asks me which, and the first one that comes to mind is the M. He agrees with the choice, but then says he’ll top it by buying my a 6 series if I just go back to his room for pizza. He promises nothing will happen and is really trying to push this buying me a BMW idea. So now I’m in completely uncharted territory, I could brush off the compliments and food offers, but now things are just getting stupid. Well don’t worry, I again said no, despite the fact that it did really sound like a good idea for a BMW at the time, but there’s no way I’m going to a bisexual’s room for pizza after he’s hitting on me. I try to forget the ridiculous offer, but he just continues on. He is dressed very nicely, and points out his big diamond ring, and then points to his watch saying, “look at my watch, I have a lot of money. I can buy you anything you want if you just come back to my room.” Or it was something utterly ridiculous like that, but one of those one liners that are just too unbelievable to forget about. Again, I say no, sorry, I can’t, it sounds great and all…and so on. He then tells me it’s because I’m straight that I’m that much more attractive to him. You know, I’m starting to get the feeling he’s tried this before… Maybe there was more that was said, but this is what I remember up till the point where he requested Ron and I go down to the dance floor to dance. I deny that I do any sort of dancing whatsoever, but that doesn’t fly with him. Ron then walks down the stairs, which sort of surprised me, and I followed for the sake that I wasn’t about to be left alone with Mr. BMW. So we go down and stand off towards the side of the floor and I let Ron in on the fact that this guy is coming on to me, and really coming on hard. Ron’s convinced he’s just a jerk and recommends bailing on the dungeon, probably the best thing I heard all night. Oddly enough, I felt kind of bad that I was just ditching the guy after he bought me those few drinks I didn’t want, I guess regardless of what happens, I still try to maintain my values for how to treat people. I figure I’d make a great girlfriend, but thankfully that’s not going to be happening…ever.
So anyways, Ron and I leave to go up to the Staff and Officers Bar with Thad and some girl they new. We hung out there for a bit, I didn’t have anything else to drink, and eventually walked back to my room when I got tired. I didn’t drink so much that I got sick at night, and I certainly didn’t drink so much that I compromised my own sexuality, and luckily that was where the night ended for me. But the story…that continues…
Next morning, I wake up around 11:30 to go grab lunch and rent a bike for Cozumel before the office closed. After the last Bike ride in Cozumel, there was no way I was going to attempt any big journeys, and Brandon and I planned to just stick around the city, exploring the more local areas and back roads. I met Brandon for lunch in the mess before leaving for the bike ride, during which time I told him about the eventful night. He thought it was a pretty good story, we finished eating, and set off for the city. We stopped at a coffee shop to try and find Pieter, who didn’t end up showing up, and then continued on to find La Choza, a restaurant that has gained popularity among the crew, and the place we knew Ron and a number of people were going for his birthday. So Brandon and I happen across the restaurant, park the bikes, and find our friends inside…all laughing about my previous night. Apparently, Ron told everyone all about it on the way over to the restaurant, and everyone thought it was the funniest thing that Pottsy was getting hit on. So I walk in to comments like, “how does that BMW drive”, or “look at my watch”, or “you should have just taken one for the team.” I had no intention of going in and sharing the story, not because I was embarrassed, but because it was the last thing on my mind and I honestly didn’t think it’d be so popular with everyone. I inevitably had to sit down though and retell it to everyone, clarify some details, and set myself up for weeks of hearing about it. Brandon and I weren’t there long, we had gotten there right when everyone had finished eating, so after the story and a few laughs, we set off to explore the city.
We stopped at a nice local place for a meal, the same place we stopped at last time after the 65k bike ride. The food was great and cheap, just the kind of place I like to find. We then rode about an hour through the city, took some pics, and then headed back. We stopped off at a grocery store for a few supplies, and then made it back to the ship right on time. We had a day off, so there was nothing else planned but Ron’s party. I bought the case as I said I would, and people started hanging out around 10:30. Seeing as half the people there were at La Choza and heard about my night, that was a big topic of conversation, and every time someone new came by, I had to retell the story to bring them up to speed and further solidify the legendary status of that night. One of the people I had to explain the story to was Jamie, the production manager, and person in charge of everything that happens on stage. He hears the story, takes a few shots at me about the BMW, and then comes to a realization about who I’m talking about. Being the Production Manager, he knows everyone with the installation crew and figures out who exactly the guy was that I was talking to the night before. Turns out that this guy, Eric, got kicked off the ship that day. Supposedly, that same night that he was talking with me, he approached guest services late at night requesting he get his cabin upgraded to a full guest cabin so that he could receive the full room service benefits. Oddly enough, the pizza he was offering, wasn’t ever going to happen. So he goes and complains, mentions the crew party, and threatens that he’ll notify the coast guard of the party back deck and get the ship pulled over. That didn’t go over so well with the Hotel director and Captain. Jaime said that “Eric” was escorted off the ship in Cozumel buy security, and will likely be fired from the company he was working for here on the ship. So I guess not only did I dodge being in the wrong place at the wrong time by not hanging out with him any longer than I did, but I don’t have to worry about running into him ever again. Crazy, crazy story, and that surprise info that night re-sparked the interest and made for the perfect conclusion to what was probably the most odd night I’ve experienced.
The rest of the evening I didn’t really drink, aside from one beer from the case of 24 that I bought, and a few shots Bart forced upon everyone. Bart, a trumpet player, is from Poland, and certainly drinks like it. So he’s walking around all night with this bottle of Mexican vodka that he’d bought, making people do shots. I’ve never seen someone pressure anyone like this guy, it’s quite impressive actually. But the odd thing is that all those eastern Europeans are huge drinkers, and as part of the culture, always eat something after each shot. Brandon drank with them one night and they were feeding him tomatoes after each drink. Bart, instead of tomatoes, had bought a huge bag of pickles to supplement the vodka. So the process was first to do the shot of Vodka, and then eat one of these pickle slices. It was the strangest thing ever, but seeing as I enjoy pickles, it didn’t make for a bad combination. I ended up distributing the pickles to every one, I found it was the best way to keep out of Bart’s scope for getting people to drink, simply because I was helping by holding the pickles. Bart had way to much to drink, as he always does, and after going through most of the second bottle of Mexican vodka, he was just getting blasted. He had already dropped the glass bottle 3 times and spilled vodka everywhere, and finally on the fourth fall while pouring a drink, the bottle shattered and the vodka shots were no longer an issue. Bart cleaned it up, not without cutting his finger on the glass, and then disappeared for the remainder of the night. I went to bed soon after, right when people started going up to the SOB to continue the party. And there, finally, ends the story of the 4th and 5th of December. Crazy times, and if you read the entire post, congrats. Have a great one and beware of guys with fancy watches and Polish people with pickles.