Cruising part 6 - Final formal night

So many problems can arise when you are cruising the high seas. Most of them come at dinner. For instance, when your mind tells you that its thirsty you look in front of you and must decide, what will it be? Red wine, champagne or water. Water? Who the hell ordered water!
Then comes your three entrees. Steak, lobster or the lobster stuffed ravioli in a butter sauce? These decisions get easier as your trip goes on. The answer is obvious: YES! All of the above!

After we met Quinn and Jared, we quickly adopted them to our tribe. We added them to our dining table and tortured them whenever we could find them on ship. Even once they had gone to bed there was no escape. (I'd apologize Quinn, but I think you had enjoyed it too much.)

Our final formal night came after the long hard day on the bay in Cabo San Lucas. Thankfully I had worked up my heartiest appetite for Lobster night. Every time they came by to ask if we wanted more I said "YES." They finally took my plate away when I was off visiting another table of guests (imagine your Cruise Director, Julie McCoy without all those pesky regulations about appropriate behaviour... that'd be me). If they hadn't taken my plate then, I'd still be sitting there shouting "YES!"
After dinner we kept up the party by going to the atrium lounge for the champagne fountain pouring. We all swore an oath to not drink the free champagne. As my dad would tell you, "If they're giving it away its crap." But we managed to ingest a few more bottles of the good stuff. And dad, if you're reading, yes, we paid too much but we had a really good time.

Our new best staff friend Ryan predicted that the final formal night would bring everyone out at last. I had my money on finally having a good time in that stinking disco. But first we changed into happy shiny disco outfits.

Some additional drunken elevator photos
(no time for dolphins tonight)

And then its off to the disco!

I'm told that Rick doesn't go out much on ship. But we dangled Lewis as a carrot and managed to get him out and happy for the evening.

Quinn and Lyle were definitely talking trash about everyone else.
How do I know? Look at Lyle, he's so happy!

Jimmy from Texas, Wade from New York and Jim from Los Angeles.
I am feeling no pain.
I am feeling Jelly Doughnut Shots.

Clinton from South Africa, me, Jimmy and Wade.

Can I share something odd about all these pictures? When I was prepping them for posting I had to fix a lot of red-eye. My camera seems to love giving it away for free. Despite the red-eye reduction setting. Here's the odd part. Never me. I never had the dreaded red-eye. Everyone else in the photo would have it and still not me. I think I ought to be more famous. Clearly my eyes are well suited to the paparazzi's constant glare. Now if I could just stop picking my underwear out of my ass or swimming in the ocean in it...

Jimmy was travelling with Corky from Palm Springs. Corky is a riot. He wasn't necessarily keeping up with us, but he certainly wasn't lagging behind. Yes, this is after he'd had his Jelly Doughnut shot.
Finally the big gay group of us (there were more who didn't get into the photo) took over the disco... except for the world's most awful DJ. We had it all: looks, brains, booze... but not control of the music. I kept offering to go get my ipod, all to no avail...

This is the last photo of Lyle. Tomorrow will be difficult for him. Though he did not have a dozen Jelly Doughnut shots, he did have a couple of Lemon Drops. That sort of sunk his morning. By noon I had him up for an hour to put some food in him. Then the waves started. It would be all downhill from there...