Tuesday, January 27, 2009. Meet The Cruisers.
I am two and a half weeks away from the departure of our next cruise, sailing from New Orleans to various places on the Yucatan Peninsula for a week. I will be alone with sixty listeners and readers, with whom I gathered tonight for a dinner at Impastato's. We always do this before a cruise, so people can meet one another, ask questions, and exchange ideas.
We used to call this the document party, since we'd pass out the tickets then. Now, however, everything is done online. I like it that way. As time goes on, I trust printed matter less and less. Once it's gone, it's gone. (As in the case of my back editions of Menu; see January 24 entry.) If it's on a computer and backed up on other computers and disks (as all my data is), something can happen and nothing will happen.
Every group is different. This one has a large contingent from Houma. Their camaraderie caused some first-timers to feel as if they will be left out, even though I assured them no such thing will happen. Except for people who keep to themselves because they like it that way, everybody becomes friends with somebody--usually somebody new--on our cruises.
The other alarm was that we appear to have a nine-thirty dinner time. But Norwegian Cruise Lines has their "freestyle cruising." You can eat whenever you want. But enough tables for the entire group at one time could only be had late in the evening. No problem. I know from past experience that not everyone will show up for our organized nightly dinners, and we'll get dinner at eight-ish.
A more puzzling problem for me is figuring out what to do with myself on land. Without Mary Ann to boss me around, I'll probably not get off the ship until noon, then head straight to lunch. Beaches? Not me. I don't tan, I get skin cancer. Shopping? What do I possibly need? Still, I have a couple of guidebooks to the restaurants in the ports.
I asked around about the famous Carlos and Charlie's, a wild restaurant and bar in Cozumel. Everyone who's been there says that the food is just okay, and that the main program is getting drunk and dancing in a conga line. Every time your part of the line passes the bar, you take another shot. I don't know if I can stand up to that anymore. But I'll give it my best.
Everybody liked the dinner, in which Joe let us steal five courses with wine for fifty bucks inclusive. Not as opulent with the wines and entrees as our Eat Club dinners, but everybody was happy. Most were also lucky enough to escape without a taste of my karaoke singing, of which I do quite a bit on cruise ships. That's real fun for me. Mary Ann says this is further proof of what a pathetic loser I really am.
