Man Overboard
Well, I finally tried a Ritalin. I’m not gonna lie- It didn’t really work. I don’t think this drug knows what it’s up against. Sure, I got a couple things done: I cleaned my apartment (it’s only a studio- doesn’t take long) and then went for an evening run which I rarely do cuz I run first thing in the morning (11am) but could the drug push me through the fear of my own laptop? Nope. The regulars on these meds were like,
“How many milligrams was it? Maybe you need more.”
Milligrams? Like I asked that as my friend handed me the pills at my fave French bar in Soho with the mystery wine you can order- if you guess what it is, you get the bottle for FREE! (I have yet to win, but I’m hopeful.) Also I love this notion that if a drug isn’t working, you just need more. (Kidding I’m terribly creeped out.)
But I stumbled upon some discipline to write cuz I’m on a ship I’ve never been on before, and I have TWO days off in a row. (That never happens.) No internet, no friends, just the Food Network and my computer. When you hit the point where you wonder if Guy Fieri and Anne Burrell are a Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana situation, you know it’s time to turn off the TV and open your computer. (Okay I also listened to one Mel Robbins podcast but that DEF helped.)
This is a story that was already in the news but I’d like to share it from my angle. It happened back in November. I put a few moments on my IG story when people figured out I was on this particular ship, but not much cuz I was scared. To any comedians seeking this job, always remember this is technically cooperate comedy. You have to be careful with what you put out there. Especially if it’s click bait worthy.* The news love to shit on this industry, eh?
But more importantly…
What if there’s a life at stake?
I’ve had my fair share of obstacles in comedy on land, but nothing like this.
Comics have daily routines on ships. What I gather from most guys is they download hundreds of hours of TV/movies and/or bring on video games, neither of which I do. I pack books (mostly soft covers for weight reasons) and try to maximize the steps on my Fitness ring as well as crush it at the gym. I’m lucky to have a few comedian friends on other ships to speed text all day as we plow through the quirks and anxiety of working out here. (Another tip: If you ever become a cruise ship comedian, NEVER whine about how bored you are with other crew members. They work their asses off, and we are a mere cufflink of the itinerary.) On this particular morning (late morning, I sleep in but again I’m NOT rubbing it in) I was up on the track, getting my steps in. Any time I hear the captain or the cruise director making an announcement, I pop out the earbuds (if they don’t fall out on their own.)
“Attention and good afternoon ____________ guests. Would ________ please report to guest services. ________ to guest services.”
Okay, that one doesn’t apply to me. I continue on with my laps. But then the announcement happens again.
And again…
And again…
Uh oh. Getting paged four times on a seaday…? It’s one thing if they page you when we’re about to leave Cozumel. Then I’d assume you got a little nuts at Fat Tuesdays and are still doing the Cupid Shuffle. But if you ain’t on the boat while we’re floating in the middle of the ocean, there’s only one other place you could be…
Whatever, I’m probably wrong. I’ve only had one man overboard experience and it was a false alarm. I guess someone’s vision was blurry enough to see a voluptuous buoy or something. We still stopped the ship for five hours only to start to look for the person who SAID man overboard. (Expect pre-drinkers on ships out of New Orleans.)
I don’t think too much of it cuz what the hell do I know. Guy might just be passed out. I walk back into my crew area room and I see security officers and my entertainment director.
“Christina! We have to search your room. We have a missing guest.”
“MY room? Is this because I’m the only single person on board? You think I hide all the available men? Where would I put them? On the top bunk?”
I mean I might, but it ain’t easy being single out here. I let them into my room, hoping my vibrator isn’t visible. They quickly inspect and move on. An hour later, I’m at the gym, cuz after the track I accidentally ingested 893593758459 calories at the buffet. There’s always moments on the treadmill where I feel like I should hold on to one side, but today I feel more of a shift. Kind of feels like the ship is spinning around. Then I notice our path on the map channel (some of the riveting content we have on our TVs.) The little red dot that plays our giant ship seems to be making a U-turn.
Another announcement.
“Hello this is your captain _____________ (insert Italian name/accent.) We are turning around to… look for our….. uh….. missing guest. We are hoping he is okay, and coast guard authorities have been notified. Please keep your thoughts and prayers with our fellow family member.”
Oh my god. Has someone actually jumped? Did I forget to mention it’s Thanksgiving? (I’m sure I’ll spot that in my proofreading if I didn’t.) Everyone knows holidays can get depressing… I get chills. What does that mean for this cruise? Is it cancelled? Are we going home? How many people jump overboard and live? WHAT. IS. HAPPENING.
I don’t know if you’ve ever considered how hard it is to be a stand up comic when a tragedy is dominating your mind. I remember boarding a ship the day the school shooting in Uvalde happened. I spent so much time reading every news story that morning I was in tears before I even went through security.
I remember having a spot at Yuk Yuks in Ottawa, the second week of September 2001 and really NOT wanting to do a show…
I remember the day the Challenger-
Kidding. I’m not that old.
Sometimes I’ll be doing Land Comedy (as I call it) and I’ll hear the complaints of comics:
“The mic stand sucks,”
or
“The host messed up my intro.”
I hope I hide my smirk enough. Try doing comedy when a ship is so rocky someone in the crowd is barfing. Try doing your act in front of a crying baby, or after a potential suicide. I’ll take somebody bringing me on stage as Christy Wankinshank any day. The point is, there are some very unique variables out here. There are days I flat out don’t want to tell jokes and likewise, I don’t think anyone expects me to be funny. And yet, there’s always a conductor reminding you,
“The show must go on.”
Oooooof.
As it turns out, our suspected man overboard went missing at 11pm the night before. Double OOOOOF. That’s when MY show started. Was he like,
“Female comedian? I’m outta here!”
Okay, maaaaaaaybe I get a little too in my head sometimes… I’m sure it wasn’t me…
Pretty sure.
At least he didn’t jump after my set. Then I’d really feel responsible. I would have checked the excursion desk to see if they had canoes to go look for him.
Around 9pm, roughly two hours before my show, the captain comes back on the intercom.
“May I have your attention, __________ (cruise line) family… Sadly, we have been released from the search and rescue mission for our guest. We are turning the ship back around and heading back to Mexico. Your excursions will be rebooked for a slightly later arrival time. Thoughts and prayers go out to the family.”
Oh god that’s it. This is horrifying. And I really still have to do a show? You know that feeling where your friend is in a bad mood and you try to make a joke to cheer them up and they look at you like you’re an F’ing idiot? Imagine having to tell jokes to a boat full of people mourning a dead guy.
Ooooof.
Me and the other comic get a swift warning:
“Don’t bring it up.”
There’s no easy way to deal with this. I guess that made sense in theory… as if I don’t have enough anxiety with my sets… but now I have to add “totally tone deaf” to the picture. Like if Ashlee Simpson had just admitted she was lip syncing on SNL in the moment, it would have been better than that little jig she did. But instead I just committed to bombing in the spirit of a steady job in comedy.
The second I get off stage, a girl I met on another ship (Hi Tabitha!) comes up to me. She was one of those ballers on board taking an internet package. She showed me the story on her phone. They FOUND the guy! He treaded water for 18 hours and LIVED! OH MY GOD! I don’t think I’ve ever had such a close proximity to that kind of miracle. I wish I had that information before I got on stage. I could have announced it and got an applause break nothing I actually wrote. (I’ll take it.)
Sometimes I feel like I have some insane luck or guardian angels. On what other ship has somebody seen this sort of happy ending? I have the next day off, but the other comic has the theatre show. He had mentioned he was pissed with being told NOT to bring it up. I get it. There have been some huge moments in history where comics have just stopped what they’re doing, and spoke straight to the camera at their awareness of a horrible situation. We’re human. We’re not numb to tragedy.
But in lieu of our happy ending it was very appropriate for him to bring it up. The mention of our man overboard being alive gets a huge applause break, obvi.
Then he brings up a conversation he had with a guy in the elevator that day:
“Treaded water for 18 hours…? Know it was a white guy…”
It killed. The audience erupted with laughter. It was the comic relief we needed, even if it seems a little edgy for the moment.
I later saw the overboard guy on Good Morning America. He’s already more famous than I am. Very relieved he’s alive and well. Maybe I’ll get a cameo in his Netflix documentary one day.
Stand up comedy is a sink or swim sort of an art form…
So I guess it’s appropriate I work on a boat.
(Here’s me in Grand Turk today, probs waiting for someone to hit the like button on my blog.)
*Oh man one of my BEST friends learned this lesson the hard way which sucks cuz I’d love for her to be out here with me.