There are certain, um, advantages to working on a cruise ship. Namely, the scenery. Heart pounding, rip-roaring scenery to leave you tearing the walls out in frustration. And since my job as porter is boring and rote, this kind of distraction is especially appealing to me. And then there's times like this, when the thunderbolt strikes. "Dear God, sweet Jesus! Now there's a girl who can save a soul!" Only, of course, she didn't.
I did, however, scurry down the employee stairwell mentally screaming, "Fire down below!" I was feeling a great and urgent need to, uh, pay homage to her. Her delectable lines spoke of a bliss unobtainable but that changed not my needs. Hurrying down the steps I nearly stumbled into a truly ignominious death but I finally reached my most secret of all spots in the bowels of the ship - outcasts instinctively find the places where no one else wants to tread.
Instantly I noticed something wrong when I heard rhythmic banging noises nearby but I dismissed both them and my inner voice, having more pressing interests at hand. But disturbing thoughts kept seeping through as I slowly considered the very wrongness of those sounds. "Not now, you fuckers, OK? Dear God, she was hot!" Finally, the noises got to me so badly I had to pull out of my reverie to see what's what. "Something is seriously wrong here."
The bowels of the ship are deep and sweaty, a dark forest unto themselves. They don't invite visitors so those who do come must have one helluva reason - Lord knows I did. I wasn't expecting to find anyone with a more lowly motivation than mine but what I saw shocked even me: six portly men in the finest of suits employing pick axes, drills and mallets attempting to hack a hole in the hull.
"What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded to know.
My voice startled them like a thunderbolt, freezing them in place with a guilty child's look of fear on their faces. I put my hands on my hips, showing them I wasn't going to back down, but after a moment's inspection they resumed their efforts as if I wasn't even there. But I was not to be swayed.
"Hey! I'm talking here!"
Evil's mouthpiece blows smoke"Fun? Fun? You're going to sink the whole ship! What am I missing here? Somebody here is clearly insane!"
"And clearly that's you," retorted cigar man without missing a beat - apparently the only one with a voice.
"Lookit! You fuckers are insane! You don't even care if you sink yourselves along with everyone else!"
"Nah, we'll be fine. We always are."
He set his head back down, intent on his work, the conversation closed.
"Yeah, well, we'll see about that! I'm telling everybody up top what you're doing!"
It bothered me no one seemed bothered by my threat. Of course, I would have the unenviable task of explaining why I was down there to begin with. And for some reason, I too found my threat curiously empty. But dammit, I'm going to make people listen to me if it's the last thing I do!
Stomping back up the stairs I auditioned various excuses for my trip to the bowels but none passed muster. Finally, I came up with: "I heard a noise and went to investigate" - as if I was pulled in! Most excellent. I spent the remaining time up the stairwell trying to convince myself of my fake story. Warily (and wearily) I noted that I actually spend a lot of time doing that...
Spotting a steward, I breathlessly informed him of what I saw - yet he remained stone-faced and unmoving throughout.
"What the hell do you know? Get back to work!"
"Hey, dill, I saw what I saw! Do you really want to compare IQs with me, pal? I guarantee you you'll come up short."
"It's obvious the only thing coming up short is you. What business had you in the bowels? The only way to hear anything in the bowels is to be there in the first place."
Clever me was busted. Unable to provide an adequate explanation, I took another tack and called the bridge. The Captain was intrigued by my story, wanting to know more. It was obvious now I needed to deal with a person of true intelligence if I was going to get anywhere. But upon seeing me, the Captain turned away.
Kiss your Love Boat goodbye!Et tu, mon capitan? "I am a serious person. Dead fucking serious. Do you want to be known as the Captain who let his ship sink because he wouldn't listen to a truthful warning?"
"No, nor do I want to be known as the Captain who let his time be wasted on frivolities - which is easy to see that you allow yourself to do!"
I stormed off the bridge frustrated and confused. It was as if everyone knew of my empty life and summarily dismissed me out of hand. But how could they know? Do people with lives somehow have this magic insight? Or are there security cameras revealing my dirty deeds? Nothing makes sense! But it's happening, I can't deny that. I could go stark raving mad trying to figure this out.
Not my usual compadres"Attention all! The ship is in danger! Men in suits are hacking a hole in it as I speak. We must stop them before it's too late!"
But all I got were scoffing stones hurled at me. "You're in serious need of attention, aren't you? Find some other way to get your kicks and leave us alone. Keep your tomfoolery to yourself."
I don't get this. I really don't get this. I see the truth, I speak the truth - what fucking hell else am I supposed to do? Is there some secret language I need to learn? I'm going out of my freaking mind!!!
"What's wrong with you people? Do you want to die? Is that it? Because it's sure as hell is going to happen if you don't stop the sabotage. Listen to what I'm saying, I'm not making this up!"
"Look, dweeb-head, you've got a serious credibility issue. And men in suits would never destroy us. It's losers in silly little porter's outfits you need to look out for!"
Drowning laughter forced my retreat. The only place left on the ship was the pool area, but I couldn't return to the scene of the original crime could I? But I had to.
This is bigger than me or any of my failings. Think logically. Those women don't know of my lusting heart, and if they'll listen to me that's all that matters. I do feel massively guilty, however, about going back there knowing my usual ulterior motives. Hard as it may be, I must put all that aside and ignore the hot legs bronzing in the sun - and save this ship. I boldly stepped before their bodies.
Must...concentrate...on...messageA communal screaming erupted, women covering themselves in towels and fleeing as if their lives were in danger. Shell-shocked me watched until the final chaise lounge was abandoned and I lost all hope. I collapsed onto a defeated chair, ready to slip into a mental coma.
What a way to die. God is looking down and shaking his head. Who does He think less of, I wonder. Sure I'm a creep, I get that. But that's all anyone else focuses in on! Fuck, man - I see the truth, I speak the truth - simple as that. What's going on here? If they think I'm so stupid, why don't they check out what I'm saying and see if I'm wrong? Judge me by that!
I give up...I'm not saying another word...I have to die on this ship in the most humiliating way possible...knowing it's going to happen and can't do a goddam thing about it...thanks God! I hope you're fucking happy!!!!!
Then, through the slits of my comatose eyes, I saw two teenage boys pass by, snickering and pointing towards me.
"Dude! You got your dick out!"
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Who wants to make that first mistake?
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