Love Boat: Day Four

(In St. Maarten. Awesome water)


It happened the morning of day four. I encountered celebrity.

That morning I informed Becky that I would run up to the top deck (14th deck) and grab two beach towels for our port trip into St. Maarten. She would finish organizing our passports, etc. and we would meet in the middle.



On the way out of our stateroom I grabbed my copy of John Grisham's The Appeal, by now sandy and brown with faded sunscreen fingerprints, and I ran the seven floors to the top deck. As I exited the doors onto the pool deck, there he was. By golly, it was Jerry Stiller, the actor who played George Costanza's father on Seinfeld. I couldn't believe it.

I approached cautiously, slowly, wondering if I should ask for an autograph. Eventually, I found myself standing directly in front of Jerry with a silly grin on my face. He looked up at me and then I realized . . . this isn't Jerry Stiller. This is a woman. She gave me the once over, noting that my beach shirt was flapping open in the breeze and that I had, just that morning, moused and braided my chest hair for the trip. I excused myself, grabbed two beach towels, and scrambled down ten flights of stairs to meet Becky.



"Guess who I just met?" I told her.
"Who?"
"Jerry Stiller. George Costanza's father."
"You're kidding."
"Only thing was, it wasn't Stiller. It was a woman who looked like Stiller."
"Did you ask for her autograph?"
"I was about to. But then, what could I say? Hey, lady, better lose the moustache! I mean, I've already shaved mine off. Who am I to judge?"
"Did she see you with your shirt hanging open like that?"
"Yeah," I said, "but don't worry. My chest looks great. I waxed everything this morning."
"Bring your book?"
"Check."
"Passport."
"Check."
"Let's get out of here," she said.
And we did.


I never returned to the 14th deck.