Get in the Van!

Getting to the airport hotel is easy. Getting to the cruise ship from the hotel is a moving escape room. The day before, you are often emailed a list of instructions that are incorrect, but you still follow them because you are told to follow the instructions. And you never want to make the people in corporate sad.

I was instructed to be in the lobby NO LATER THAN 11 AM! (The instructional paper had this in all caps for emphasis, or it was someone over the age of 60 who thought they were using Facebook).

I got to the lobby at 10:55 a.m., and no one was there. So I called the emergency number, and the sad guy on the other line said someone would be there to pick me up in 15 minutes. So glad, I got there before 11.

At 11:20 a white van pulled up and unloaded various joining crew members for a different ship. A clown car of people who would live on a boat for 9 months. The driver was a small Chinese man no one could fully understand. But he kept laughing at his own jokes. So we also laughed along with him. Like when you are at a student-improv show and laugh just so the performers don’t feel like they have wasted 8 weeks of their lives in classes.

He seemed confused when we told him he now had to take us to the cruise ship, which was forty-five minutes away. He looked down at his papers and shrugged, “OK. We stop and pick up two more at different hotel…inaudible speaking…HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

I met a singer, her husband, and a comedian who was like a sad Fran Drescher.  Everything she said was hilarious and incredibly depressing. She is the second comedian I’ve met this month, who is twice my age, who tells me they really want “to make it”. I respect their tenacity.

The singer asked about my book and playfully did not believe I was an introvert. This situation is particularly challenging for introverts. Describing to someone who thrives on the company of unfamiliar faces that my perfect day involves lounging on the couch with my dogs is no easy task.

When we stopped at the hotel, we were nearly joined by a Japanese guy who looked like he was in an Elton John-inspired punk band. His attire was eccentric, with tall, flowing hair, extravagant clothing, and translucent green sunglasses. Despite our clarification that we were headed to a different ship, he made an effort to board. Placing his bags in the back, it wasn't until our driver courteously requested his exit that he begrudgingly unpacked. "We're not going there…inaudible speaking…HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

Adding to our cohort was a man who gave lectures about Alaska to the cruise passengers. He told us he was a former lawyer who did not trust the judicial system, and now specializes in childhood trauma. What followed was a 40-minute car ride about the inner workings of the brain from a man who repeatedly said talk therapy did not work. In the end, I only remember him saying that if you eat 4 grams of fish oil daily, you won’t be an alcoholic anymore. So the same stuff I give my dog for joint and coat support helps you not booze.

But on the plus side, I know why my chihuahua is such a dud at parties these days.

We eventually got to the terminal and parted ways. The lecturer/lawyer/childhood trauma guy gave me his business card, which was just a picture of the northern lights and a QR code. No name or other info on it, but at this point, I’d expect nothing less.

I said thanks and tucked it into my backpack’s front zipper pocket. Also known as my spot for future trash.

And another cruise ship contract begins.

GET MAGICALLY INTROVERTED FREE ON AMAZON!