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So I didn't fall overboard. I didn't even slip on the dock, or trip in the galley or any of the other follies I seem to get myself into. It was a seemless Trick, in terms of my physical health.

It ended up being a gorgeous night. The clouds were threatening, but they broke and I really don't think you can beat the moonlight dancing off the water. Although perhaps you can beat that with a nice ran of sun bouncing off the water and onto your tanned skin while you sip an umbrella drink with the sound of steel drums in the background.

I need a little vacay.

So the night was fantastic. The people were incredible and the mood was great. There was, of course, those few who always take it to far and seem unable to keep their drinks to a minimum. And on this trip there were two of them, and oh did they put on a good show.

The girl was ... The Keggar Girl. And for those of you who've never been to a keggar in your young and foolish days (I say this with a heavy sigh and a shaking head for the memories...) there was always a girl who spilled on herself, tripped, cried over a boy and at some point during the night would throw up and walk around in a stained shirt all night. If her friends cared about her enough they gave her a sweatshirt to change in to. If they didn't care enough they became impatient with her, rounded up the designated driver and sent her home.

So - Keggar Girl on a boat is an interesting dynamic. She was a darling little thing who - clearly - could not hold her liquor or find the age where she was maybe smart enough to eat a little with her glass (she drank 6) of wine, and maybe remember that if your sea legs aren't so great, perhaps just avoid the bar all together. So where does she go? Do you hang her like a bumper over the side of the boat? I think that crossed Her (very embarassed) Husband's mind as he wrapped her in a blanket and brought her to the bow for some fresh are and time away from the masses. She brought her own sweatshirt, thank goodness, but it was sadly no use as she threw up in it on her way to the lower deck.

And then there was Devil Horns Dude. A college boy home from his second year who apparently mistook this nice 3 Hour Tour as an aforementioned keggar. His Father, our Client, tried in vain to get the kid to relax a little, but the kid was not having it. He was fresh from finals and seemed determined to let loose all the pent up frustration pulling a few all nighters can bring. So he spent his night raising up his hands like he was at a Motley Crue concert giving the big devil horns signs while sticking his tongue out. And then he would run up to the bow and yell, "I am The King Of The World", and would end it all with a nice devil horn sign.

Devil horns in the galley, on the upper deck, on his way to the head. Devil horns by the food, by the bar - all over that boat. I am not sure if it was a class he took at College - "Rocker Sign Language, 101" or if he just felt free of the confines of all that learning and was trying to express his bad self. Either way, I get the distinct impression finals must have been a bitch.

The fresh air must have done some good because Keggar Girl came through the galley and asked for some crackers. She apologized for her lack of good judgement, and asked if we minded that she lounged at the table for a while.

Devil Horns dude kept up his personal party, and by the time we got back to the docks his hands weren't raised quite as high. But his spirit was still in tact. He said good-bye and raised up his hands for one last salute and said, "The food rocked. You rock! Rock on."

Rock on, Dude.

Posted by Foodwhore at May 15, 2008 11:05 AM