Holiday Parties

We are approaching holiday time on the ship. Last night was the first of what is going to be an endless cavalcade of December parties. We will be in the weird situation of our bosses delivering us wine and beer. Once upon a time in the Chicago of my youth, friends of mine and I would go out to freebie or almost freebie happy hours and work a specific system that went “go to the bar and get as many drinks as you can carry” and then we’d stand around a table which looked like a lemonade stand or a cafeteria. Last night I got a glass of wine. The YC behind the counter gave me two because “we’re gonna run out!” and “THIS is how IIII have a crew party!!” The small problem is that when you’re like “I’m being so sensible. I had a mere two glasses of wine. I am so sensible.” you may also be yelling your private negative opinions of someone important to someone you met 3 seconds earlier because “YOU’RE WEARING GLITTER THAT’S FUN!!!!” This is because a crew bar glass of wine is a plastic, disposable juice glass filled up to a half inch below the top, sometimes less. So I think, based on personal behavior (“HE’S CUTE BUT HIS PANTS ARE WEIRD BUT THAT’S PROBABLY BECAUSE HE’S PORTUGUESE”) and the degree we all started yelling at each other, two glasses=2/3 bottle.

I heard more Moulin Rouge stories last night, including the fact that nothing is conducted in French within the theater. Everyone who works there is English, Australian or Russian. Also, they only do new shows once every 10 years because they sell out every night (and tickets are like 125 Euros), so management thinks why bother changing it. There are places all over Paris reserved for Moulin dancers, places that are always VIP and mean you pay for nothing. Also, Moulin dancers come in two flavors: “pah-ty girls” who are crazy and have personalities, and “girls from the ballet world” who are stuck up and serious and won’t let you see their boobs when they’re off stage. My very gay male dancer friend found this absurd “oh come on, what about when you were naked on stage right next to me? Remember that?”

I learned more about surveillance. They are supposed to be very SS Gestapo KGB CIA and not let anyone know they are surveillance. Except that the head guy’s name is posted on a wall. Delight.

Tonight? An open mic night for the crew. We have 2 shows, so I may have to miss it. Or rather: this will be hilarious.

There is also a possee of about 6 middle aged white women from New York who got wasted with one woman on a Rascal, went to the atrium and started singing the old 1989 rap song "Supersonic" into a microphone. The old "the S is for stupendous [I think] the U is for unique. The P is for perfection, the E is for Erotic and the R is for RRRRAP!" etc. The ended it with "SUPER SISTERRRRSSSSS!!!!!" They were all sisters, with their silent mom taking pictures from her Rascal. They then said "WHERE IS DESSERT!!!"