The Old Coot loves the Cruise Polka

I was on a cruise ship the other day in a food court called “The Marketplace.” I call it the “Feeding Trough.” I was at a six-top table with a husband and wife at one end and me at the other, minding my own business. 

Hah! That’s a lie: I was people-watching and eavesdropping like crazy. The wife was alone for a few minutes while her hubby ran off to get another load of pastries. He left his phone on the table. It suddenly emitted a loud rattling noise that sounded like a bottle of pills being shaken. 

I looked over at his spouse and asked, “Is it time for your husband to take his medicine?” She replied in the affirmative, “Yes, but as usual, he’s not here to take them.”

It was early; many of the tables were empty. The rush hour was just beginning; it’s what I’d been waiting for, the mad scramble for an open seat at a table or a turn at one of the numerous food stations scattered throughout the large eating area. 

I was well situated to watch the mad scramble. It’s kind of like the scrum in a rugby match. Elbows were flailing; people rushed from one food stand to another. Food was spilled; angry looks were exchanged. 

It seemed as though these people hadn’t eaten in weeks. Their plates were piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pastries, cut-up fruit, pancakes, waffles, and a myriad of other items. 

The waitstaff wandered through the sea of tables with pots of coffee and glasses of juice. It helped to energize the troops; they repeatedly returned to battle and made queries such as, “Where did you get that giant sweet roll? I must have one!”  

It’s most entertaining when the sea is rough and the ship is rocking. That adds spilled plates and sloshed beverages to the mix; I wasn’t disappointed. The imaginary maestro tapped his wand; the plate-clatter orchestra fired up, and the cruise ship “feeding polka” began. I sat tight. I didn’t want to join in on the performance, not with my balance issues that are magnified on a swaying ship. I stayed put with my meager plate of food and watched the show. 

I got my money’s worth. How could I not? I was in Old Coot Heaven.

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