Hello all! I’m back from my family vacation (and only vacation) of the summer, a Caribbean cruise. How many alliterative vacations have you had lately? We sailed with the Princess line, famous for the TV series Love Boat. Unfortunately, the population of this particular cruise seemed convinced that they were on the Drunk Boat. They prowled around the halls in packs, these preteen partying fiends, bragging to their friends about the time they licked beer off the floor. Then they bought a coke for $4 and drank it from out of a brown paper bag in the most visible area possible.
Occasionally I would stop laughing long enough to accomplish the many important tasks on my To Do list for the vacation, including kayaking, snorkeling, and the incessant application of sunscreen. The latter was the most troublesome. There is a problem with the way tanning is done today. If you just lay out, your friends will later confuse you with a lobster or an angry Mr. Seible. Therefore, you need to apply sunscreen. However, the application of sunscreen is, as I have already mentioned, troublesome, not only because of the need to apply it incessantly but also because of the tendency to miss patches of skin that turn into unintentional brown tattoos. These only slightly less painful versions of their actual counterparts can in theory be erased by more tanning, but trying to tan again raises the two aforementioned issues. My solution: the tanner rotisserie. You rotate constantly so that no one side of you is crispier than the others, plus it comes with a free sunscreen baster. Pretty cool, huh?
Kayaking was pretty interesting, too. I rented one with my sister. I sat in front so we could both see. We could only successfully paddle in one direction, so we would go that way for a while, then take a break and let the current pull us back towards where we had started. It was great. We were actually among the more successful watercrafters around. I personally witnessed the beach patrol hauling in a paddleboat carrying two largish men and two women, presumably their wives, wearing floral one-piece suits with the little skirts. That made me feel better until we mowed down two nearby swimmers. Then we got hit by a sailboat. Yep. It’s funny running into other people on a watercraft. You can see what will happen almost a full minute beforehand, yet it’s still inevitable. All you can do is flail your limbs and yell, “Aaughh! Look out! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Aaughh!,” then watch the whole mess as if it were a slo-mo instant replay.
Snorkeling presents a whole new set of problems. In most cases, unless you want to endure a 45-minute gut-churning boat ride with a captain whose “coffee” smells suspiciously like a cocktail of tequila and Nyquil, you have to snorkel beachside. That means you see more snorkelors than fish (“Hey look, Mildred! A white fish with little blue lines- oh wait, that’s your leg. sorry.”) The constant downward gaze of most snorklers creates a navigational process I like to call bumper-snorkeling. Because you run into people. Haha. This view also gives you the same visual experience as a glass-bottom boat except you get all wet and are inflicted with painful bruises. Because you run into so many people. Haha.
Anyway, I’m back at home again. In case you’ve been wondering, this isn’t really a humor article, but more of a humorous account of real events from my life. Or is it?