Car Rides and Sea Days

Our trek to Ft. Lauderdale began later in the day then we expected. Ellen and Carolyn both had to work until noon while Mom frantically packed her things and I laid in bed watching news reel bloopers. We set out on the highway around 2, all itching with the pre-trip giggles. Carolyn entertained us with a movie she and Georgia created staring Keanu Reeves as a Native American named Chicken Foot. His baby son's name is Chicken Nugget. We drove down to Melborn that day and while I slept off and on, Ellen spent the whole 6 hour drive upset about work things. She texted and called back and worried about AC units and monthly checks and gosh it was annoying. "Turn your phone off!" we all shouted to her while she descended further and further into a dark, festering frenzy.

That night as we layed in bed, Carolyn kept us awake talking about her life as Mrs. Marky Mark. I was immensely tickled by Carolyn's pillow talk and was told that I was still laughing out loud in my sleep. The next morning we ate a quick breakfast and packed our things.  Ellen accidentally hit Carolyn in the back with a "run by fruiting" that was meant for me. On the road in no time, we made it to the port, climbed aboard the Ruby Princess and thus our fun began.

Ellen, a big talker afraid of overpriced fruity beverages, decided to smuggle a bottle of rum onto the ship. She had two medium sized plastic bags, each half filled with clear, cherry flavored rum. As we pulled in to the parking lot she slung one at me. "Here Laura, strap this around your waist while you go through security" she said and tossed me a roll of duck tape.
"No way!" I shouted.
"You wanna pay nine bucks for a drink?" she asked.
"I don't want a drink!" I retorted, somewhat panicked.
And so one bag was left in the car. The other was quickly shoved down the front of Ellen's tight black jeans, limiting her mobility and plastering that devious grin on her face for the reminder of the afternoon. She indeed made it through the security check with no trouble, though I was not quick to help her when she dropped her passport on the ground. I enjoyed watching her crouch like a pregnant woman, pawing around, and teetering on her way back up. To top off the scheme, rather than going to her room to unload her plunder, the crew corralled us all into a fancy dining room for lunch. We plopped down into our plush chairs, draped cloth napkins across our laps, and sipped citrus water from wine glasses. Ellen, still grinning, though with more concern, leaned way back in her chair. The hot plastic stuck to her stomach and sloshed with every movement. She sat like a nine year old in a church pew; a diagonal line touching only the edge of the cushion and the top of the backrest. I found this all sensationally entertaining and was very disappointed when Ellen finally reached into her pants and somehow shuffled the whole ordeal into her purse. What makes this better though is that Ellen never once made a drink with her rum. Didn't even open the bag.

We pulled out of Ft. Lauderdale a little before dinnertime and spent the time before take-off rolling around in our staterooms. Ellen and I were somehow upgraded to a room with a spacious balcony and it is here that we spent most of our downtime, sunbathing and taking pictures of each other. Ellen was occasionally difficult to corral as she throughly enjoyed watching movies and reading about each day's events. Here I have Ellen in two of her most natural positions.

This first official day was an entire day at sea. The waters were smooth and the sun was hot so us gals headed to the pool deck to get some color. It was here that we observed our fellow passengers and Mom noticed that one of the male pool attendants was definitely not wearing any underwear.

We lazed around this first day and all donned our party dresses for dinner that evening. Carolyn wore a dress she referred to as her "sausage casing" and Mom lived on the edge with a "short" hemline. I foolishly chose to use the brisk wind as a hair-dryer and spent the remainder of the evening ripping out clumps of tangled hair. 

That night we met Nemo, a 23 year old Serbian cocktail server who really took a liking to Carolyn. She told him her name was Elizabeth and he made tip-wanting eyes at her all night. He also danced for us while singing and pouring drinks. We noticed he did this exact act at any table involving two or more middle-aged women. And yet... you couldn't help but tip the guy.

As a last stop before bed we attended a line-dancing class. Purely to observe of course. This is where we encountered most of the ship's major characters and Ellen became genuinely angered by Mom and Carolyn's hysterical laughter. There was one man we named Peter, for he looked like one of Jesus's disciples. He had a penchant for 70's tunes and could be found dancing anywhere there was music. We noticed a grandma who didn't miss a beat and one young woman who just couldn't. No matter how hard she tried.
Best of all was a middle aged, skinny, hippie woman who we only ever saw roaming the ship drunk and alone. We named her Boozin' Susan after one of my Surf Bar acquaintances (she gave herself that nickname) and Boozin' would dance and stagger but was off in her own world, never following the steps and often floating out to a distant corner before reappearing in twirls. Mom and Gigs had tears in their eyes and Ellen stormed off to bed, afraid of being caught with two whimpering women and a frizzy-haired, grinning misfit.