(Our dinner companions each night: Radames & Kenneth.)After five days at sea we were feeling a little bloated. Food. Drinks. Food. It was all very dizzying. Still, unlike some people we noted, we did not spend our entire day sitting in the buffet room with five full plates. We usually skipped lunch, and we always ate breakfast in our stateroom each morning. (And by the end of the cruise, Becky had gained five pounds, while I had lost five.)
As we ported into St. Croix on the last day, I went European and walked out onto private stateroom balcony/deck in the buff to watch the sunrise. Becky: "What are you trying to do, give those fishermen down there a show?"
I stood up and waved to the flotilla and one or two of the fishermen waved back. "See," I said. "They've seen it all before or they think I'm just a French nut case."
She didn't comment.
Still, there's no way I could run naked through the streets like some of the prophets did, and in our culture today, what would be the point? But I was glad for the cruise. Not so glad, however, for John Grisham. On day five I finished reading The Appeal, and I was depressed. His book about corrupt lawyers, corrupt politicians, and a cancer case was all too real and wasn't the type of read I was looking for. I nearly chucked the book over the balcony into the sea, but thought better of it. No, I could sell the volume at Half Priced books back home and get a nickel. That's something. And I could buy myself a piece of bubble gum.
Funny thing though about standing on a private balcony in the buff with your wife . . . after twenty-five years and five days of cruising she doesn't even notice.
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