That's why they call it a "Carnival' Cruise!

So there I am sitting on the balcony of the ship enjoying a cocktail as we sail between St Thomas and Grand Turc. I am waiting while the wife gets ready so I can get in the shower. I have my rum and coke, my Dennis Lehane novel and my cigar and am just chilling out.

Suddenly I hear a big commotion in the cabin right next to where I am sitting. You see they have these big metal screens between each balcony so you can’t see what is happening in the next cabin. You can’t open them or see through them so you have privacy. There are two chairs and a low table for your stuff.

We had two connecting cabins but our neighbors where a bit of a problem. On the left side we had this fanook who decorated his cabin door for Christmas and New Years. You see they have this lame competition where you can win a cheesy ribbon for the best decorated door for Christmas and New Years. Now this guy had to win. So he had about twenty balloons and an inflatable model Carnival ship and all these post cards of the other cruises he had been on. I mean I think the dude would have been a lot happier with a different kind of cruising. And hey not that there’s anything wrong with that. But the fuckin balloons stuck halfway into the hallway and you couldn’t help but bang into them on your way to and from your cabin. Especially if the ship was rockin. God forbid you mussed up against the balloons or Sweet Baby Jesus popped one. He would rush out to see who did it to start a ruckus. It just made walking to your room a pain in the ass.

On the other side we had this multigenerational interracial family. This white European dude who was Dutch or something was married to a Chinese woman who had her baby and what seemed like her Mom on board. All in one cabin. Now this wasn’t one of those good Chinese babies that you can buy who didn’t cry all the time. I think they grew this one their ownselves. The fucker never stopped wailing for the whole cruise. Most of the time you didn’t hear it because the cabins are well insulated. Only late, late at night did you hear a faint wailing and mewling. Luckily the motion of boat lulled you to sleep almost as fast as a boringheads divalog. So you heard it for a quick minute and then you conked out. But still and all it was another pain in the ass.

Now the night before we had an incident. My daughter smelt something burning and I sort of did too. Something like burnt toast. But we were right under the buffet grill and they had a problem the night before where the smoke alarm went off and the bulkhead fire doors closed like an episode of “Get Smart.” So the wife goes “We have to call it in.” I go “No we don’t it is nothing. If you call they will come to investigate and you are in your nightgown and you are gonna be pissed.” But of course she doesn’t listen to me and calls it in. Five minutes later there is a knock on the door. They sent his Nazi German guy down to check it out.

“Open your door. Raus, Raus I must investigate.” I open it up and go “No problem Colonel Klink it was a false alarm. The smell is gone it is probably the same thing that set the smoke alarm off last night in the grill.” “There was no incident in the grill last night. Nein. Nien.” “Ten there Heinrich there was. I was there. Why don’t go up there and check their papers.” “I vill and I vill be back.” “That’s Austrian dude, not German. Get it right ok?”

So back to the balcony. I am sitting there reading and drinking and enjoying the sunset and I hear this commotion and yelling. The door of the balcony slams open and I hear the deck furniture getting bounced all over the place. I am sitting right next to the divider in the big lounge chair and all of a sudden I see the back of the Mamasans Pete Rose Haircut hanging over the balcony onto my side and I hear her gurgling and cursing in Chinese as her daughter is choking her out. I recognize the Cantonese words for fuck and cunt and whore and other bad stuff as the struggle continues. The white dude must have rushed in to break it up as I hear him grab his wife and throw her in the room.

Then he starts pleading with the Mamasan. “Please come inside. Everyone in the cabin loves each other. We are a circle and we cannot break the circle.” And a whole bunch of happy horseshit Kumbaya nonsense. Which didn’t work. The Mamasan seemed to have slept on the Balcony for the rest of the trip. All of her stuff was out there.

Anyhoo I couldn’t listen to any more of that shit and I went inside our cabin. The wife had heard all the commotion and asked me what the hell was going on. When I told her she said “We have to tell somebody.” I said “Look this is a vacation not an After School Special where Kristy MicNicols grandmother Sada Thompson gets beat up by her Mom Meredith Baxter Birney who just figured out she’s a lesbian and blames Grandma. We don’t want to be the couple who rats everybody out. Nello is never gonna come to the Knicks if we snitch. Besides it all seems to be normal now. I promise. If I see a Pete Rose haircut on our side of the balcony again we will call. But let’s just go to dinner. I hear it is Prime Rib tonight.”

Everything worked out. Nobody broke the fanooks balloons, the baby cried all night; Mamasan sat on the balcony and muttered that her daughter was a whore under her breath while she huddles on the freezing wind.

And I got to drink my cocktail in peace.

That’s why they call it a “Carnival” cruise.