MEDALLION-FEST FOR THE “SPECIAL ONES”

• I promised a couple more blog pages before we return.  For one thing, grandma (and others) like to see my formal dresses.
• I suspected that these last 7+ days at sea would be long.  Sat., Apr. 21 – Sun., Apr. 22 – Mon., Apr. 23 – Tue., Apr. 24 – Wed., Apr. 25 – Thu., Apr. 26 – Fri., Apr. 27 – then home.  Bill’s marking the days off on his calendar, like a teenager, eagerly anticipating a big date.
• On Sat., Apr. 21, Bill got all hot to trot that we start packing, right then.  Out came the shoe boxes, suitcases, etc.  Bye bye shoes.  Bye bye gowns (most of them anyway).  We pulled the little red pegs out of our world map and put it away in its box.  Altogether, we packed the first eight bags and boxes, with plenty to go . . . .  I couldn’t help but to tell him the obvious, that packing now won’t get us there any sooner.  This exercise wasn’t lifting my spirits, so I ran off and made more appointments at the spa!  Another pretty sunset . . . Bill thought he saw more “cloud Moai’s”.

• Yesterday, Sun., Apr. 22, I spent the day putting photos onto CD’s and DVD’s for other passengers.  Facial recognition software now makes it possible to locate all (or at least most) photos of a given person.  Everyone seemed to appreciate these discs.  Sally shared her pictures with me, too.  Thanks, Sally!
• After that – the highlight of my day – was a visit to the spa for a “Top to Toe” special:  scalp massage, hot stones massage, foot and ankle massage and facial.  After that, I had my hair done for the formal.  Before diverting into the evening’s activities, I wish to first share with you some photos of my favorite staff on the ship:  the ladies from the spa!  They make you look good, and feel good, every time!

• HAL has an incentive program, called the “Mariner’s Society”.  Since we have over 100 days at sea, we became “3 star mariners” (oh boy).  Last night, we were invited to a “Mariner’s Society” cocktail party before dinner.  I wore a pale peach, floor-length gown, from Chantix.  Bill wore a suit, opting to save his tux for the last formal.

• A few days before this event, some friends said they’d received “medallions” to wear at the event, along with their invitations.  We hadn’t and so asked our room steward why.  He told us to ask at the front desk.  So I did.  They said they’d look into it, but still, no medallions . . . .  The Queen’s Lounge, site of this event, was packed and very hot.  I was traipsing around in 4-inch heels and finally spotted a row with plenty of room to sit.  As soon as my fanny hit the seat, two men (one passenger and one staff member) quickly told me that was for “President’s Club” only.  Oh, sorry!  Up I went again . . . searching for “steerage” seating, where I belonged.  Far to the side, we found Alan and Annie, and our foursome found some friendly companionship.  Sam was wearing his medallion, and so was Alan.  We watched what resembled an Olympic medal ceremony for those passengers who had been born and raised on HAL ships . . . gold, platinum, President’s.  One by one, they went up and had a medallion placed around their necks, while a ship’s photographer took their picture.  When they asked us (peon) “bronze Mariners” to stand, Bill and I saw no reason to stand – having never received our bronze medallions.  When they asked the President’s Club members to stand, I saw that man who so abruptly asked me to leave.  He stood, still alone on that row of seating.  I was brought back for a moment to that horrible mother in Titanic, who wanted to be sure that her lifeboat was for first class passengers only.  Here are Alan and Annie from KC, and me creating my own fun at the event:

• We headed to the “place we belong” on the ship:  the sports/casino bar!  This is where one finds the best bartender, Erik, and the most fun passengers on the ship.

• Then, we went for dinner in the dining room.  Bill reminded me that I’d saved two bottles of wine for these last two formals, and he went to get one.  Remember me telling you about all the nickel-and-diming that goes on here?  Well, they actually have an $18 “corkage fee” if you bring your own wine into the dining room.  You could buy a $10 bottle of wine, and they’d charge you $18 to open it for you!  Many passengers find this practice to be offensive and simply open their own bottles before entering the dining room.  I’ve never heard of anyone actually being charged this fee, and lots of passengers buy wines at the various ports in Chile, Italy, France, Spain.  I reminded Bill to open our bottle in the room, which he did.  We asked for a few glasses, so I could share my wine with our friends.  Apparently, the fourth glass tipped the scale, because the wine steward then mentioned the corkage fee.  I told him to send Ingo, who was in charge of that.  I’d attended almost all of his wine tastings and gotten to know him pretty well.  I was sure he would tell them not to bother me.  He showed up and started telling me how they had to open the bottle and to pour it for us.  I said, “no they didn’t”.  Then he starts with this attitude, “oh, don’t tell me that”.  Then, he said he’d just pay the fee himself and walked away.  Wow.  He apparently wanted to “set an example” (telling everyone at our table the rule will apply to us – even if it doesn’t apply to anyone else).  His need for moral superiority – saying he’ll pay the fee himself – apparently justified him embarrassing me in front of our whole table.
• After this, I didn’t want to eat or even to drink my wine.  I just sat there, saying nothing.  Everyone kept asking me what was wrong.  I knew they didn’t really want to hear me spew.  I just kept my mouth shut and said that I was fine.  Ironically, they brought us all a glass of champagne after dinner to celebrate our cruise.  Yeah, thanks.
• When I returned to my room, I found an invitation for the next wine tasting.  Hem.
• Lesson learned:  it’s not fun to be a “big nobody” on this ship.  And I wouldn’t want to become “somebody” here, either.  At least there was a cute “towel animal” – and a little plate, showing the course of our cruise, in the room too.  Isn’t there another port we can see between here and Ft. Lauderdale – any ole island will do!

Late Update:  This morning (4/23), guess who shows up at my door?  It was Ingo, holding two bottles of wine and offering to do whatever it took to make things right between us.  See, men do things like this and make it impossible for us to be mad at them!  Okay, this "wino" has to forgive!
Late, Late Update:  After returning home, I learned that I've become a 4-star mariner.  I would've settled for a seat when I needed it.