Day Six: Day at Sea, The Day of Observation and The Day Politeness Wore Off

Last night, I slept on the balcony, listening to the sound of waves breaking on the ship and looking at the stars. It was kind of fantastic.  I woke up to witness the sunrise and promptly went inside because it was sweaty and hot.

Today I observed a woman in her 70’s who, by all visual accounts, got fully into the Caribbean spirit by having her thinning hair put into cornrows, complete with beads. After several days of seeing her at dinner and lamenting the lack of a camera, we discreetly captured the elegant way the lighting softly bounced off her exposed scalp and promptly laughed until tears were rolling down cheeks.
I can't wait to get the picture from Aunt Susan because it really is worth a thousand words. 

In the middle of a presentation about the day’s events, Aunt Sara scooted over to make room for an older couple.  This seated her directly next to a grumpy older woman who looked at her and slapped her on the leg.  Take aback, Aunt Sara said, “I’m sorry?” and the woman hissed, “I’m saving these seats!”  Now, the presentation had been going on for a good 20 minutes and it was pretty clear no one was coming.  And there were empty seats on her other side.  The Lady Who Came In Late told Sara she was fine and needn’t move.  Grumpy Lady again hissed at Sara to move, which elicited a response from Late Lady, and thus began an exchange of some heated words, with Aunt Sara stuck in the middle.

In the crow’s nest area of the ship there is a lounge with highly coveted recliners and an excellent view.  A truly decrepit man hobbled all the way up there and took a few solid minutes getting situated in a recliner.  Just as he was settled in, the person next to him informed him they were saving the recliner.  The old man simply reached up, turned off his hearing aid, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

This picture has nothing to do with anything, except I saw lots of this on sea days.

Those cavorting around the ship by way of motorized vehicles have become increasingly pushy and no longer have any qualms about ramming their vehicles into the back of your legs or running over your bare toes if it helps them get down the hall faster or on the elevator sooner. Mobile devils.

But you know who is never rude or short? The stewards. They are unfailing and unnervingly courteous. These men are also like magic elves of cleanliness. I don’t know how they do it, but anytime you leave your room for more than 30 minutes…voila! It’s been tidied. I enjoyed this novelty for the first day or two, but now I mostly guilty about them repeatedly cleaning up after me while the most strenuous thing I’ve done is walk around the ship looking for more cookies.  Though they are endlessly polite, as the days pass, the veneers of their smiles are starting to wear a little thin and the faintest strain is visible in their eyes. I feel like they must despise me and all the other lazy, overly indulged cruisers. How could they not? This is the most selfish and lazy I think I’ve ever been in my life, and not only is it not considered a bad thing – it’s highly encouraged.