Sup? I’m back. Well, back in Cozumel, but also back in blog land. I checked another pharmacia on the price of Adderall again. He said he didn’t have any, but has Ritalin.
“Is close, for focus.”
“How much?”
“30 tablets, 10 milligrams.”
“How many milligrams does it take to write?”
He said he didn’t know, which is fair. I’m not sure he’s actually a pharmacist since he was also trying to sell me a scooter. I asked how much again, cuz what I really wanted was the price. He said $120. When you walk away from someone trying to sell you a purse in Mexico, they usually drop the price the second you’re five feet away. The same rule does not apply with pharmaceuticals. So once again, I’m writing drug free.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned this yet, but prior to working on a cruise, I had never actually been on one. I assumed they were all vessels of mass diarrhea and I’ve always been pretty capable of that on my own. It’s 2019- everyone had seen some cruise ship click bait on the Norovirus striking ships. As a former Journalism student, I understood sensationalized news. Surely that’s rare… The worst that can happen.
I’m flown down to Orlando the night before I board the ship, and put up at a decent hotel in Cape Canaveral. Having all this taken care of for me already feels like a win. Comedy for profit. Neat.
My instructions say to go to the crew gangway but I don’t even know what a gangway is. I know what a gang-bang is (not first hand, don’t worry) but I’m pretty sure there’s no relation. I start looking for ramps. Ramps seem to be the way on board. I miraculously find where I’m supposed to be, and as I’m boarding I see a comic I know disembarking the ship. I should say hi, but like I mentioned in the last blog, there is a bit of a stigma behind this gig. I assume he’ll be happier if he thinks I didn’t see him and vice versa. Plus it’s early and I don’t feel like talking. (Plus I’m not sure he’s actually funny.)
A tall, gorgeous Scandinavian woman takes my passport and gives me the key to my room. I’ve heard horror stories about the accommodations on board but honestly, I’m fine with it. Sure the couch has the upholstery of my dad’s 1979 Chevy Nova (which he still insists is a classic) but I have a cute little porthole window and a TV with movies that I’ve never seen.* I have to know where my muster station is, along with life jacket in case our ship does a reboot of Titanic, but I’m not too worried about icebergs south of Florida.
I roam the ship and am kind of impressed… this place is a floating Vegas. Casino, Irish pub, pools, hot tubs, live music and of course people drinking drinks 24/7. This actually seems like it would be fun if I didn’t have to work. My stage manager warns me it’s spring break so brace myself. Uh oh. I’m already dreading performing for children, something I’ve never had to do in my entire career. What if it’s ALL KIDS in the crowd? I was a good babysitter in the way I kept them all alive, but terrible in the fact I made the all watch The Young & the Restless.
When I’m handed my schedule, I notice some 18+ shows. I honestly wasn’t expecting that. I thought I had to be “squeaky clean.” I decide to confirm this before I blast the audience with all the deep thoughts that go thru my mind during a blow job.
“Soooo… these adult shows… we can, like, talk about sex or whatever?”
“Yes. But try to avoid politics.”
Politics are the new dirty. Copy that.
Also worth noting that I had no idea where the cruise was actually going. (I still like not knowing. Fun to wake up somewhere new every morning and not feel shame about it.) This is a five day cruise, hitting Cozumel and a private island in the Bahamas. Cruise ships own islands they way banks own stadiums. I’m clearly not a good business woman. I barely own my phone.
I’m working with two comics I’ve never heard of before, but both check out to be funny and sweet. No crazy credits in their intro’s, just guys who have been working for decades and have the proper amount/type of material for this gig.
Fuck, I’m already at the point where I’m scared this blog is too long. I am trying to draft a book on here, so I don’t want to skip details. But still, I know how my attention span works, and I usually only read the first four paragraphs of an article, then just scroll down to see how long I would have kept reading, if in fact I chose to. Paul, the bartender at my local, mentioned he got my last email, but didn’t read it cuz it was too long. This is probably why lists are more popular than online diaries. Much faster to pedal through “Top Ten Worst Moments For the Toilet Not to Flush.” (A list I’ve often thought of writing.)
The twist on this first cruise gig? It was spring break, but it was spring break for college kids. So while I was scared I’d have to work on my Blippi impression, my Tinder material hit just fine. All I had to do is say, “1-2-3 Fuck Bryce” on the mic and they promised me an applause break, which shamefully I did because just like when I was in college, I wanted to fit in with the cool kids. And Bryce seemed to like the sentiment the most. The whole week had the same vibe of being on the road anywhere in America, only the people are on vacation. (And aren’t allowed to have guns on board. Oh the safety!)
You know when other people warn you something is gonna be the worst, then you do it and think it actually wasn’t so bad? You maybe even liked it? That’s how I left feeling. Do I have low standards? Maybe. Or are they just complaining about a bunch of stuff they should be grateful for?
Or is it possible they never got invited back and are bitter?
(With the exception of anyone who has worked Disney cuz I hear they are VERY picky and know for a fact I don’t stand a chance lol.)
Oh shit I forgot to write about the crew bar. And I really need to. That’s a whole blog in itself…
Next week.
For now, I better finally post something so people don’t think I’ve given up.
Thanks for reading to the end,
The S.S. Walkinshaw
(Oh ya and don’t worry. I got my passport back.)
*Since turning 40, I see a movie once a year so this isn’t a tough offering.
P.S. As per the writer’s strike- writing is SO FUCKING hard! They deserve so much more! And that Chat GPT scares the shit out of me. Writing dialogue has always been my favourite, but I hear it won’t write dirty so I might still have hope. Don’t replace the writers with AI! IT’ll never have the voice of someone needing Adderall. I am in awe of every disciplined, working writer. #WGAStrong. That is all.
I enjoyed this.
Informative, insightful, and funny.
Combining multiple elements into one article is a tricky blend of “structure” and “style”.
I'd check out writings by other “humorists”.
You'll see ways they weave the subject or “narrative” with the “laughs”.
And yes, (as in many forms of the “arts”) it's fair game to “borrow” from another person's style,
… until you figure out your own.
Love! And if you make them longer, I will still read!