I'm at the No Name Bar at the Barracuda Hotel in Cozumel, Mexico, drinking a moderately priced margarita and sucking up free WIFI. I'm sitting next to the pool so, as long as somebody doesn't do a cannon ball, I should be okay.
When I logged on to Blogger the directions were all in Spanish. I just started clicking on various Spanish words until I got to a page I recognized. Who needs English?
We're in port for four more hours. The weather is craptastic but since I'm not paying for the cruise I couldn't care less.
I had a very strange PG show the other night. The front row was dominated by unsupervised children, two of whom had made my husband's life difficult during his show which was one hour prior to mine. The ten-year-old obnoxious boy actually said to me, "You know, I was a bigger part of the other show."
His six-year-old little sister did a running commentary throughout my entire set. "I didn't get that joke." "I got that joke." "What does that mean?" Finally, she said perhaps the strangest things an audience member has ever said to me, "Do you want a sandwich?"
I leaned forward, "What did you say?" With even more enthusiasm she said even louder. "Do you want a sandwich?" I thought for a second and said, "Oddly enough, I do want a sandwich."
Of course, I should have said to her, "Yes, why don't you go make me one." But I think her parents would have been pissed. But, of course, her parents shouldn't have let her try to ruin two shows!
(Oh dear, a European crew member just walked past wearing a rather revealing bathing suit. My husband said, "I can't unsee that.")
This drink is pretty strong. The humidity is 94 percent. I should be face first in a puddle of drool in any moment. I could use a sandwich!