Thursday, December 17: Late in the Day

This will probably be my last communication from the ship. I’m packed, except for what I have to wear this evening and the clothes I’m now wearing, which will most probably have to be jammed into my carry-on. While I haven’t bought anything bulky, dirty clothes always seem to take more room than clean ones. And I have a lot of dirty clothes. Tomorrow morning, I leave the ship early so probably won’t have a chance to bring this up to date, which I can do when I get home. Some summary is probably in order.
I had morning duty at the Coffee Connection where, sitting alone at a far table, I had an opportunity to take one long last look at this population. I’ve probably not said before that I’m surprised by the age and infirmities of so much of it. There are many people in wheelchairs, some electric, and some on canes and many, like Henry, too proud to signal their infirmities with devices and need help just moving from place to place. I suppose it’s really true that a luxury cruise like this one is about the same price as a good nursing home but a lot more fun. And the elderly feel safe here, nestled in the breast of good food, good service and a hospital on Deck 3. Getting off an elevator, I overhead someone say, “I don’t know whether I’m going up or down.” Someone on the elevator said, “There’s a lot of that around here.”
At the opposite end of the spectrum are the women traveling alone, of a certain age, some looking for a man, preferably rich and handsome. Marcy’s sister came into the Coffee Connection this morning, slumping along on her cork heels like a cheetah, her eyes focused on any possible prey. She gnawed on her yogurt and Raisin Bran before giving up and slinking away to another deck.
I had coffee with John, the Bridge instructor, whom Marcy’s sister eyed hungrily before abandoning. He has a red face, the squinty-eyed smile of a lecher and vodka breath that would knock you over. He and his wife, Mel (yes, his wife), are off the ship tomorrow and to Ft. Meyers where they have a home. After Christmas, they’re off on another cruise, with yet another one lined up behind that one. They make their living traveling and teaching people to play Bridge, an occupation that has occupied them for eight years. I can’t imagine.
Gabriele stopped by to thank me for dancing with her last night in the Voyager Lounge. We had gathered there for cocktails and I was putting together the tables for dinner when she grabbed me from behind and dragged me onto the dance floor for a rumba. She said she was meeting friends for dinner and it was time for her to go but the later she was, the grander her entrance. What am I doing here with these people?
Libby had breakfast at the Solo table in La Veranda where she ate with Heinz and Shirley. She told me Shirley said she didn’t like dancing with me because of my ugly shoes. I couldn’t help but wonder if she feels I can’t dance properly in them – I’ve had no trouble – or worries about what others will think of her when she’s dancing with a man wearing what she considers to be ugly shoes. And I wonder when she’ll return the Neosporin I gave her for her blister. Not!
In my packing, I found two hangers missing from my luggage, the kind that fits it perfectly? I can only wonder what happened to them. Meanwhile, Heinz has stopped talking to me except when I ask him a direct question. No matter. We’re through with each other.
Would I do this again? Will I accept the invitation for the 47 day segment of the world cruise? More on that when I get home. Stay tuned.