Crew bar ended last night with a large, 40-ish frowning mustachioed gentlemen of color (Honduras? Nicaragua? St. Lucia? South Africa? Dominican Republic?) informing myself and my Canadian roommate: “I hate white people.” I said “haha” and figured he was joking and my roommate said “what?” and he said, angrier, “I hate white people.” He said this a few more times and my roommate, who is a sweetheart and a liberal said “My name’s Ashley, what’s yours?” To which he replied “Fork you” but without the fork and a much stronger and scarier word. To which she replied, “no sorry, what’s your name?” to which he replied “FORK YOU” again with no fork. No one died, we slipped into the passenger hallway. Perhaps we shall not close down crew bar again. Also, the next morning I recognized him as the man serving my roommate an omelette. Maybe he did not recognize us because we all look the same. Fingers crossed!!
I had a long talk with a Romanian cruise staff guy who is just back on the ship. He is 25, and has a degree in Journalism, Fitness and one other thing. He is an ex-pro soccer player. He told me at length how Romania is so boring because everyone knows his dad and then he told me about his dad, who runs a monestary and the Patriarch there will probably be the next Patriarch if the current Patriarch (eastern orthodox pope) dies. He was fun to talk to until he said all the gypsies should be rounded up in a stadium and shot, to which I said “that’s terrible” to which he said “no, no, only the bad ones.” I was told earlier this week that all the Romanians on the ship are gypsies and they had to be taken away from jobs that required interaction with passengers. The waiters would say things like “are you finished” in a very direct and straightforward way (or rude and pushy) that made passengers complain. So Romanians run the show, but they are not the soft face for the passengers. Also, for a while the Romanians “got smart.” Instead of “just dating stripes” (officers) “they got smart and said ‘I don’t just want dinner, I want money.’” So the officers started: paying. Now it is apparently much better and the crazy underbelly prostitution section of the ship is all located on Deck 2. This is where you can get anything. We’ve been doing our laundry on Deck 2. Maybe we are taking a chance. It is usually a deserted laundry room. Maybe this is why.
I’m reading a ton of P.G. Wodehouse, because he makes me laugh so much. He has a perfect way of describing people. I shall now attempt to do same. There is one girl whose face is incredibly animated during the dancing shows. She’s a great dancer and a beautiful woman and very thin, but she has 3 main expressions.
1) An orgiastic mother 1 second before a standing ovation for her daughter’s first and perfect piano recital. Or maybe: someone encountering a long awaited God in the flesh, holding her favorite food, dripping and steaming.
2) A bull aiming for the toreodor’s cape, smiling because when it ate the toreodor’s brother it caused a sensation and a party with all the other bulls and that same party is going to happen tonight.
3) Spastic, laser staring glee.
This is partially because I cannot imagine being constructed with an innate desire to dance, smiling the whole time like everything is incredible. I could only do their job as a punishment or a penance or a hostage trade. People are different.
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