WHEN THE HELL DO WE BOARD?

One thing I like is to be able to have control in unfamiliar circumstances. Sometimes that won’t happen. As we piled out of the mini bus, the Class of ’64 needed to check in their luggage before boarding the boat. This is on the NYC Pier for the Carnival Cruise line. As we gathered around the porters, one of the porters starts to ask for a $2 fee for taking our bags. In the confusion of getting there, and the excitement of the big ship looming behind in the background, we gave him the money! We did not have to, and in fact if you travel Carnival, do not pay this crook.

We were heading for the boat! Not so fast! In fact slow up. Oh, we started out like: BATS OUT OF HELL AND WIND UP AS BATS HANGING FROM THE CAVE WALLS!  (Did you read that somewhere before, recently?)

Ushered into an elevator, we were herded into different lines, lines that ran continuously side-to-side to reach a certain point to register. The building was enormous: with high ceilings and large poles, all painted blue. The Class of ’64 was scattered, in different parts of the lines, and in different sections! On all the blue poles was painted with the #1. My cell phone rang, it was Pam, later to be known as Miss Pa Mella (Another story). “Where are you?” My response was a clear: “Under a blue pole marked #1” A second call: “Where are you now?” My response, a dishonest: “I’m fiddling with the door key to my stateroom!” I was miles away from there. It took almost 1 and ½ hours to go through the line! Either the security precautions are really taking over, or they just don’t know how to organize.

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As we waited on the line, my partner, Miss Pa Mella flips my the “L” sign as she goes by to board the boat!