Escape your life for a little while — come play in mine.

Caribbean Diary, Day 3, Part 2 (written Wednesday morning)

Posted by Lissa on June 11, 2008

BOY: Do you know what polar bears are good at?

GIRL:  No, what?

BOY:  Breaking the ice!  Hi, I’m Dave.

GIRL: (gag)


Okay I assumed that last part about gagging, but that was a contribution from Zach at dinner last night.  He and his friend Dave were comparing ways to “break the ice” with girls they wanted to approach on the boat and the above was the example from Dave.  Seriously?  Zach’s, BTW, was much better; he usually wears two necklaces and will take one off and start fussing with the clasp, then ask a girl to help him put it on.  That way she has to touch him AND she’s kind of stuck there for a few seconds while he introduces himself.  Whereas all the polar bear line would earn you is a smack, in my opinion.  And not the good kind.


Dinner last night was the Venetian Fest; we started out with caprese salad and antipasti, progressed to lamb shank and chicken marsala, and ended with chocolate cake and tiramisu (me and Mike, respectively for all three).  I think Mike actually liked the lamb more than I did; I only ordered it because Dad likes it so much.  That, and thanks to Jenny’s enlightenment a few years ago, I now know that “lamb” on a restaurant means “sheep,” not “little baby cute fuzzy sheep.”  (I’d thought that lamb and veal were equivalent terms for the different animals.  Jenny pointed out that, unless you’re in England, they do not list “mutton” on the menu.  Duuuuuuuuh.  Sometimes, I not so smart.)  It was just as well though; Mike has been ordering things like chicken and fish while I’ve been ordering steak and lamb, so I feed him about half my dinner and then I can have dessert!


We also had the entertaining spectacle of watching all the waiters twirl napkins above their head ala Big Fat Greek Wedding and, all together, sing O Sole Mio.  Our waiter (I Made, from Bali; pronounced ih-MAHD-ee) came back and immediately confessed that he lip-synched J  I didn’t mind; they were all relatively in tune, even if they didn’t know the words, and god knows it beat the over-loud latino music they were playing earlier.


Oh, I think I’ve forgotten to mention the quinceanera girls!!  There’s a group of about fifteen girls who, the first night, were all wearing elaborate wedding dresses.  I’m not kidding, they were not prom gowns in the slightest, they were WEDDING DRESSES, big poofy embroidered ones, topped with sparkly tiaras.  Last night they changed to white skirts and turquoise blouses, but I’m still blown away by the wedding dresses.  My god, if those folks spend this much on a quinceanera dress and party, what the hell are they going to do at the actual wedding?  Raise the Titanic?  Sheesh.


A beautiful day is dawning; it’s such a hardship to greet said day on a balcony overlooking a beautiful ocean, with coffee and breakfast delivered to the room, and Mike earnestly explaining the concept of displacement and comparing our ship with the Nimitz.  Life is very, very good.  J

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