For those of you remember my last visit to Mazatlan, fear not. I didn't get off the ship. In fact, I think the Mexican customs agents have a picture of me and orders to NOT allow me off, after I nearly caused an international incident in March. This may be the first time in history the Mexicans wanted to keep someone OUT of their country.
Although having no plans to go ashore, I got a seat overlooking the gangway this morning, in hopes of filming the excellent performance by drunken musicans that we had a few months ago. I was disappointed, because apparently they were unable to find musicians who weren't inebriated, unreliable, or contagious, and in their place they wheeled out 3 statues of musicians to tower over the gangway, while a boombox played some sort of Mexican rap music. How inviting.
They tell you at the gangway that the local water supply is "usually safe", while simultaneously selling $5 bottles of water under a sign that says "Take Safe Refreshment". So what kind of mixed messages are you giving here? Would you also give a lecture on how it was a low crime area and then sell handguns at the gangway?
Around noon I took Frank and Craig up to the water slide. The ship was empty, most of the passengers having gone ashore. And there was A TURD lying on the deck by the staircase. I ain't talking bird poop, either. I mean a decent sized human waste product, which likely fell out of a passing diaper. I pointed this out to several passing ship employees, who looked at it and then went about their jobs, clearly hoping someone else would take care of it. I even noticed my chatty friend, Officer Mahjong, going by:
Dr. Grumpy "Excuse me, sir, but there's a turd on the deck.''
Officer Mahjong: "A turd?"
Dr. Grumpy: "Ya know, a turd, shit, excrement, crap, stool, BM, doody, poop, whatever, over there on the deck."
Officer Mahjong smiled, laughed, and patted me on the back, "Oh, you funny sir. No worry. Only sailing ships have poop decks" and walked off.
I gave up, told the boys not to mistake it for a Baby Ruth, and lay down with my book. A few minutes later a crewman appeared, wearing an outfit that looked like it could survive plague, fire, or nerve gas. He picked up the turd with a bright red bag, mopped the area with bleach, and vanished.
I hung out this afternoon overlooking the gangway, watching people come back to the ship. They were returning with all kinds of shit. Hammocks, hideous paintings, bottles of Cuervo, ugly hats, clothes, jewelry boxes, and one guy with a sex doll.
A SEX DOLL?
No shit. He actually bought a sex doll in Mazatlan. I must confess, that even in my disastrous tour of Mazatlan last March, I never once saw a sex shop. I guess I assumed they're out there, but never asked where to find them either. I hope he didn't buy it used.
I gotta admit, it takes a special kind of courage (or desperation) to buy a sex doll outside the U.S. and bring it in. I mean, let's face it. You have to bring it through customs on both sides of the border, where EVERYONE can see that you bought a sex doll. And this guy wasn't even trying to hide it under a bag or something. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but had to wonder. Was he using the "It's for a friend" line? Or "It's a gag gift" or was he even trying to make excuses? Inquiring minds want to know.
I mean, this ship is full of hormonally charged singles and this guy is getting a sex doll? Even if he's inept at pick-up lines, whatever happened to good old-fashioned using the self service pumps? Tonight at dinner I'll be looking around to see if he’s sitting with his new companion.
Looking for something to do before dinner, I followed Mrs. Grumpy into the photo store. Here you can buy pictures that the ship's ubiquitous photographers snap when you least expect them to. While standing there, trying to focus on important subjects like when was my last Diet Coke, a teenage guy wanders over and suddenly whips out a picture he pulled off the display. He looked around furtively, like he was about to sell me a watch, or state secrets, or a dime bag. But instead he just said "Hey, Mister, does this picture make me look gay?"
I looked at the picture. It wasn't flattering. I thought about pointing out that it was his lame-ass haircut that made him look gay, but decided to be nice. I was an awkward teenager once, too. I said "I think it's just the way the lighting is".
“Man, if my Dad sees this he'll buy it! How can I keep him from doing that? Can you help me, dude?"
I have no idea why this guy had come to me to save him from a really bad picture, but pointed out the shredding box for people to drop unwanted pics in. He tossed it in there (looking around for his father the whole time), winked at me, and wandered off.
Mrs. Grumpy located the pictures they took of our kids in Camp Cruiseship. Frank and Marie looked cute. For some unfathomable reason, however, Craig had been posed with another boy, one we'd never seen before. Out of 30 kids in their camp group, Craig and this kid were the only ones in a dual picture. Why on Earth would they do that? Why would any parent buy a picture of their kid posed with some other kid who they've never seen before, and whose name your kid doesn't even know? How stupid is that?
After tonight's lounge show we wandered up to get a snack. I mean, we hadn't eaten in nearly 90 minutes, and were famished. So we went to the 24 hour pizza place. While I was waiting in line to order a slice, a drunk guy in his early 20's went up to the pizza counter and had this discussion with Rohan, the pizza cook.
Mr. Drunk: "Rohan, dude, when are they going to re-open the burger station over there?"
Rohan: "The burger station is closed for the night, sir. It will open again at 10:30 tomorrow morning."
Mr. Drunk: So can I get a burger here?"
Rohan: "No, sir, this is the pizza station".
Mr. Drunk: "So how come I can't get a burger over there?"
Rohan: "It's closed for the night, sir."
Mr. Drunk: "So can you guys make me a burger?"
Rohan: "No, we only have ingredients for pizza here."
Mr. Drunk: "I know you do! I mean, otherwise why would I come over here?"
Rohan: "Would you like some pizza, sir?"
Mr. Drunk: "No! I want a burger! Hey, do you know if the burger station is open?"
This went on for another few minutes before Mr. Drunk staggered off to chase a passing herd of Miss Drunks.
The main reason I note this conversation is because many of my posts, as well as those on other medical sites, seem to assume that we are the only field to be cursed with having circular conversation with idiots. I felt sorry for Rohan. Here he was, politely slinging pizza somewhere off the coast of Mexico, and he had to deal with the same idiocy that we have to put up with. I felt like he should get an honorary RPh, RN, or MD for handling this so well.
To answer the question: No, I didn't see the guy and his doll at dinner. Maybe they were in another seating, or went to the buffet instead.