In case you forgot

***UPDATE: As of 6/9/09 this story has been edited in response to a cease and desist email that was received regarding its content, as was originally predicted (see below). The new version is maintained below with all information relevant to the cease and desist removed and photos tastefully censored.***

The following story documents events that took place between the approximate dates of Jan. 9th and Jan. 11th, 2009. I’m anticipating that JTTS will receive a cease and desist email in repsonse to this post, so make sure that you save pictures, URLs, etc. because I don’t own the majority of the images in this post, and will likely have to augment it in the future (i.e. delete a lot of the good stuff). I will forewarn you that the story is long, but it’s worth every moment that you devote to it. Imagine the Mike Ecko story on steroids. After the jump, enjoy “The Cruise Story: A Tragedy in 3 Parts”…

The Cruise Story: A Tragedy in 3 Parts

PART I: Why Am I Here?

One of the perks associated with living in Miami is that residents get insane deals on cruises. Even though I have no money and will soon enough be sitting outside of Home Depot all day attempting to injure all of the illegal Cuban immigrants with whom I’ll battle for the opportunity to lay tile at the new Wal-Mart, I recently decided to put $80 on my credit card for a 2 day, 2 night all inclusive cruise to Nassau, Bahamas.

Worker Class of 2009, not pictured: The Dance

My roommate and I drove to the port of Miami expecting to find a diverse collection of people, including many groups of college-age girls and young professional women that we could infiltrate with our classic good looks and brazen charm. However, when we boarded the boat it became painfully clear that the vast majority of cruisers used their AARP discounts to purchase their tickets, and the remainder of the guests were too young to give a shit that they were on a cruise, indicated by the ubiquitous look of boredom and disgust displayed on these children’s faces.
At this point I thanked my powers of ingenuity that my fool-proof plan to sneak a generous amount of alcohol onto the ship was successful, and pledged that for the entirety of the trip I would maintain a blood-alcohol content high enough to trump my efforts to identify reality.
After settling in to the absurdly small cabin, I happened upon a schedule of events for the night, and noticed that two soirees on the list were tailored to my situation. The first was the “Singles and Solos” event and the second was the “21 to 30” club night, both of which had potential to make the next two days far more bearable for me, considering my life-long aversion to morbid obesity, incontinence, and small children in swim wear.
Before heading to the Hemisphere Lounge to meet with the singles and solos, my roommate and I took a jaunt around the ship to explore what kinds of entertainment it had to offer. By far the most promising discovery was the ping pong table. It assured all the competitive excitement of the casino with the added luxury of only having to interact with one 40 something insurance salesman struggling with alcoholism rather than a table full of them. I cruised through my first four games crushing my opponents with ease; I was the Genghis Kahn to their central Asian farmer. That is, until I met my match who came in the form of a 4’8” smart ass kid who openly proclaimed victory against me before even picking up a paddle. He talked shit to me the entire game, made me look foolish with crazy trick spin shots, and occasionally hit me with the ping pong ball as hard as he could just because he didn’t give a fuck; I bruised.  I would later see the ping pong kid selling his brand of excess crazy all over the cruise ship at all hours of the night. I once saw him riding the elevator at 4 AM holding what looked like an alcoholic beverage. When the elevator doors opened he didn’t exit, instead he raised his right arm and pointed his index finger at me, saying nothing, and concentrating hate through a blank stare in the direction of my soul. He remained in this position until the elevator doors closed upon him, presumably returning him to his place in hell.

Similar but Different

In an effort to forget my interaction with the ping pong kid I returned to my cabin for a quick drink before hitting up the “Singles and Solos” event.  When we entered the Hemisphere Lounge for the party, my roommate and I realized that once again we had been duped. Of the 10 or so people in attendance, 10 were fat, 6 had penises, and at least 4 had facial hair where they weren’t supposed to have it. Crushed, I turned toward the exit, my head hanging low in a moment of defeat. But as often happens, my lowest moment was followed by my most exciting; when I turned toward the exit I noticed not one, but two young, non-obese girls standing near the doorway. I immediately approached the girls and after a few minutes of small talk I was pleased that they were accompanying me and my roommate to our cabin to play some drinking games.
For the remainder of the trip my roommate and I referred to these girls by the nicknames that we gave them: Old Face and Mostly Retarded. Old Face was about 5’1”, had a good body, blond hair, and the face of a 40 year old even though she reported her age to be 20. Whatever, beggars can’t be choosers. Mostly Retarded was about 5’6”, had large breasts, brown hair, and limited herself to the most absurd and misinformed comments I have ever heard. For example, “Like, oh my god guys, do you realize that we’re like out at sea right now? Do you know that if you go to the bottom of the boat there’s so much pressure that you get headaches and stuff? That’s why they make the helpers live down there”. She got a pass because unlike her 20 year old counterpart, this one reported to be aged 18 years, and you can’t expect much from an 18 year old girl.

Mostly Retarded on the left, Old Face on the right.

Anyway, Old Face and Mostly Retarded revealed all kinds of information about themselves during our game of Kings. Some of the noteworthy nuggets are as follows: Mostly Retarded can’t keep track of her breasts, so it is the job of Old Face to repeatedly pull up Mostly Retarded’s tops when her areolas begin to escape from the oppressive grasp of her D cups. Old Face was on [a TV show], no one cared. Old Face won [ a talent show], no one cared. Old Face records music, no one cared. Old Face is a hip hop dancer, no one cared. Old Face loved to talk about herself and did everything in her power to be the center of attention at all times, but yet again no one cared. Seeing the neurotic nature of Old Face juxtaposed with the drunken mumblings of Mostly Retarded was almost too much to handle, but when the girls suggested that we move the party to the hot tub there was suddenly light at the end of the tunnel.
After a quick change of clothes our two duos rendezvoused at the hot tubs only to find that they had closed. This upset me because for the previous 15 minutes all I worried about were logistical issues regarding hooking up in a hot tub, like keeping as far away from my roommate as possible for fear of touching him while getting better acquainted with Mostly Retarded (we paired up, I chose breasts). At that moment, though, it seemed that more work would be necessary to seal the deal than Mostly Retarded deserved, but in those extenuating circumstances I was willing to put forth the effort.

PART II: Surprise!

Old Face and Mostly Retarded were just two members of a larger vacationing unit comprised of Old Face’s father, Old Face’s obese mother, and Old Face’s morbidly obese grandmother who was so fat that she could no longer walk and was confined to a motorized wheelchair.

[Picture Redacted]

I swear the grandma spent at least 6 hours per day in the cafeteria area; I once ate lunch at 2 pm and saw her hunched over some ice cream in the corner then returned for dinner at 6 pm and saw her hunched in the same spot, this time attacking some sort of soupy concoction. I at once had feelings of empathy and disgust. Empathy for the ship’s crew who cleaned her cabin and most likely discovered year-old portions of Doritos chips that had become dislodged from their cellulite home, and disgust that none of the crew had set up some sort of partition or human shield to protect the rest of the cruise goers from the animal-like fervor with which this she-beast consumed her meals. But I digress, the group to which our two lady friends belonged included Old Face’s immediate family, plus Mostly Retarded who appeared to be freeloading. Back to the story…
After having been heartbroken at the hot tub area, Old Face informed us that she and her companion needed to meet up with the rest of her family in the theater to watch some sort of comedy show; my roommate and I were invited. We then went to our respective rooms to change and met up at the elevators. It was clear immediately upon meeting at the elevators that something was different, just a little off. The girls’ attitudes were no longer those of reckless abandon and all of a sudden they were nervously giving instructions rather than suggestions: “You have to meet my grandma”, “make sure you sit on the left side of the theater”, “don’t even try with three fingers” (just kidding). This was all coming at me in waves because, true to my word, I had consumed more alcohol than is recommended or safe, and was having trouble focusing.
After meeting granny (sweaty palms), we found our seats on the left balcony. Old Face’s parents were seated on the right balcony and could see us from across the theater, this, apparently, was a problem.
As I was trying to get friendly with Mostly Retarded, I heard whispers between Old Face and my roommate that piqued my interest. I was informed that Old Face’s dad was very protective of Mostly Retarded (apparently he’s not a big fan of Old Face), and that I would be in “big trouble” if I continued to drunkenly grope Mostly Retarded. I wasn’t convinced, but Old Face got increasingly insistent that I leave as soon as possible, so I tried to hatch a plan with Mostly Retarded, the conversation went like this:
Me: “Hey, I guess I need to leave because your friend’s dad is crazy, so I’m going to get up and leave, then a minute or so later you tell your friend that you need to go to the bathroom. Meet me by the elevators and we’ll go to my room”
Mostly Retarded: “Yeah you should meet her dad, he’ll really like you I bet”
Me: “No, I’m leaving, I’m not meeting anyone. You need to leave too and meet me by the elevators so that we can go to my room”
Mostly Retarded: “Oh my god, is that guy on stage playing piano now? I thought he was just talking. That’s weird”
I got up and left.
For the next couple of hours my roommate and I split our time between the casino and the club, hoping to find another group of girls who weren’t fat and hadn’t yet hit menopause, but to no avail.
At about 3 am, in a final attempt to find some sort of talent on the cruise ship, I was strolling across the pool deck on my way to the club when I heard a girl’s voice yelling “Jason!” (I had given a fake name for this trip. The interesting part is that Mostly Retarded saw my real ID and didn’t find it odd that the name “Jason” wasn’t printed on it). I identified the source of the scream; it was Mostly Retarded.  She was flanked by Old Face and some guy who was later introduced to me as Haas. Mostly Retarded took my hand and led me to the edge of the deck to the ship’s railing. I don’t do well with heights, and the fact that railings like this often serve as inadequate protection from the sea for drug mules in crime shows only enhanced my anxiousness. Once I had a clear view of the ocean that lay a few hundred feet below me, Mostly Retarded began making slow, writhing body movements for no apparent reason and told me that she was cold, intimating that I should warm her up. Normally this would be a more than welcomed suggestion; however, my uneasiness about heights and the pressure that I felt due to the audience of Old Face, my roommate, and Haas watching this scene unfold like it was their personal entertainment served as a mental block that manifested itself as a confused stare.
Just as I was regaining awareness after my little episode, I heard my roommate scream my (real) name from his place across the deck.  The way he yelled “Daaaaaannnniiieeeeelllll” forced my head to slingshot in his direction and initiated the slow motion. I had experienced this sensation before, mostly while participating in some sort of recreational sport. It’s what athletes call “the zone” but really it’s when everything around you appears to slow down; this gives a competitive advantage in sports, but in this case it allowed me to savor the terror.
When I turned my head I saw Old Face’s dad barreling down the ship’s deck like a bull seeing red. I observed his head bob up and down with every thunderous step, his eyes zeroing in on me with a look that radiated malicious intent. For an instant I contemplated playing matador and ducking out of the way at the last minute only to see Old Face’s dad plummet over the railing to a watery death. This, however, wasn’t worth spending the rest of the vacation recounting my story to police, so I decided to wait to see what he did instead.
By the time that he reached me Mostly Retarded and Old Face had run off somewhere to hide, and upon seeing him up close Old Face’s dad no longer intimidated me. Short, with a beer belly and glasses, this guy was no match for my youth. He approached me with his hand extended, ready to feign civility for the sake of onlookers. His attempt to squeeze my hand to the point of discomfort was fruitless as I matched his intensity and then increased it. I like to think that this is the reason he kept the conversation so brief. After asking my name and age, Old Face’s dad informed me that if I continued to interact with Mostly Retarded he and I would “have problems”. Satisfied with his nonsense and having no intention of taking his advice, I simply said, “Ok” and proceeded to meet with my roommate to discuss what exactly had just occurred.

[Picture Redacted]

After recounting the details of the conversation to my roommate, he let me in on a little secret to which Old Face had recently made him privy. Mostly Retarded was not 18; she was not 17; she was 16. Not only was she 16, but she was on the cruise in celebration of her 16th birthday. She had been 16 for a mere 2 days! This information is what had inspired him to scream my name like a crazed fan, and rightly so.
I felt as though everything was melting away from around me. I began seeing my surroundings in binary code like Neo in the Matrix, and attempted to alter Mostly Retarded’s age Keanu Reeves-style by simply extending my arm from my chest, raising my palm, and saying, “No” in a tone that indicated both revelation and an alarmingly low IQ score. This, of course, did not work and I was left to deal with the reality that I was not capable of learning to fly a helicopter in 3 seconds, which, in my drunken state, was almost as devastating as learning that I had been hitting on a 16 year old all night, and turned toward my room to further digest the news.
I then realized that the many annoyances I had faced throughout the night were not annoyances at all. The hot tubs being closed, Mostly Retarded being too stupid to follow my plan, Old Face’s father stalking me; these were the helping hands of the Statutory Rape Fairy disguised as the Cock Block Monkey’s hurled feces.

Cock Block Monkey

After a quick moment of reflection and relief that I hadn’t done anything that could land me in prison, I felt an intense rush of anger. The bulk of the anger wasn’t directed toward Mostly Retarded. Yes, she had lied about her age but she was barely 16 and, well…mostly retarded. It was Old Face who was to blame for this. She was the one sitting idly by, allowing me to believe that her friend was in bounds. Because of her neglect I could have been obligated by Megan’s Law to inform my neighbors and co-workers that I was a convicted sex offender (that would not bode well for me as a kindergarten teacher, which is what the self-proclaimed psychic who I met on a 5th grade class trip to the botanical garden announced as my future profession; she’ll probably end up being right, she was right about my toilet bowl staining in the shape of Jesus, which is a tough one to call). After much contemplation, my conclusion was that Old Face was a terrible, terrible cunt.
I went to bed that night in an alcohol-drenched haze of rage and confusion, constantly replaying the night’s events in my head to the best of my ability, making sure that none of my actions were punishable by law (they weren’t, I’m safe).  I woke up the next morning with a loose itinerary already mapped out, none of which included seeing, hearing, or generally involving in any way Old Face and Mostly Retarded; however, my itinerary didn’t attract Fate’s approval, and I was destined to have nearly every notable moment of my trip earmarked by the appearance of those two walking atrocities.

PART III: The Saga Continues…

When I wearily woke the next morning the cruise ship was already docked in Nassau, and I was experiencing the duplicitous nature of alcohol. First it lures you into its warm embrace with the promise of joy, invincibility, and companionship. Then, once you commit to its arrangement, you learn that the more acquainted with alcohol you become, the less likely it is that it will deliver on any of its promises, instead only supplying you with the desire to consume more alcohol. Simply giving lady alcohol a high five is oftentimes more beneficial than going down on her in the back of the movie theater (life lessons from The Dance). Also, as was the case in this instance, after a long night with alcohol the urge to shoot oneself in the face accompanies the sunrise.
Luckily, I was able to suppress the impulse to end my life and made my way to the cafeteria for breakfast.  I was ready to inhale my bacon and eggs when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Old Face’s grandmother rolling through the cafeteria like Kanye West in a Louis Vuitton store, desiring everything in sight.

Sexy

No big deal, everyone has to eat, especially morbidly obese grandmothers of terrible cunts; however, this particular grandmother decided to motor up to the table directly across from where I was sitting. She had Old Face, Mostly Retarded, Old Face’s father, and Old Face’s mother in tow.
What. The. Fuck?  At first I was unsure as to whether any members of the circus crew had even spotted me or my roommate, but that question was answered when Old Face turned around in her seat and loudly greeted us.
Old Face: “Hiiii guys!”
Us: “Hey”
Old Face: “What are you guys doing today?”
Me: “I don’t know, not getting arrested, so we probably won’t see you”
Old Face: “What?”
Roommate: “See you later”
For the duration of this interaction Old Face’s dad was looking down at the table and giggling, so was Old Face’s mother. This confused me immensely because less than 9 hours before this Old Face’s dad had chased me down on the deck of the ship, and now contact similar to what had enraged him only hours before caused him to giggle. Whatever, his kid was weird and I figured she had to get it from someone.
Nothing noteworthy occurred for the majority of the day. Nassau is extremely dirty, but Paradise Island is off the hook. At the end of the day, while standing in the ridiculously long line to go through Nassau’s customs/immigration, I noticed that Old Face’s entire crew, minus granny, was in line about 15 feet in front of me. I notified my roommate and we did our best to be inconspicuous. After getting through customs we were walking the 300 yards or so of dock in order to board the ship when Mostly Retarded turned around and saw us. She was shoeless, skipping around the dock like it was an elementary school playground. Reader, you need to understand that a cruise ship dock is absolutely disgusting. I equate it to an airplane tarmac or a Nascar pit road. Consequently, no rational person would ever even contemplate walking barefoot on this surface, much less skip around on it, jumping from hepatitis C to AIDS back to hepatitis C. In her hands she carried a tall margarita from Senor Frogs, purchased for her by Old Face’s parents  I presume, and a wooden flute.

Mostly Retarded, shoeless, with alcoholic beverage. Legal drinking age in Nassau is 18, thanks for buying mom and dad!

Keep in mind that Old Face’s parents were literally 5 feet away from me for the ensuing conversation, as was Old Face. It went like this:
Mostly Retarded: “Jaaasssoooon!”
Me: “Please get away from me”
Mostly Retarded: “What? Why?”
Me: “You’re 16, I don’t want to waste my time talking to you, and it’s basically inappropriate”
Mostly Retarded: “We can still be friends. Look at the flute that I got for free for my birthday”
She drunkenly shoved said flute in my face.
Me: “Neat, you got it for free just like your driver’s license”
Then Old Face chimed in.
Old Face: “Be nice!”
At this point we had reached the ship’s security checkpoint and were standing linearly with about 50 other people, waiting to walk through a metal detector. Old Face’s comment caused me to freak out a little bit.
Me: “What? Be nice? Are you honestly saying that to me right now? Do you understand what kind of situation I’d be in if those hot tubs were open last night? I’d be hiding in my room, hoping not to go to jail. I can understand the girl who’s actually 16 lying about her age but you, and who knows how old you are (I figured at least 18 because she was in college), lied too. Are you an idiot? Do you not understand the repercussions of your actions?”
Old Face: “I had to, she’s my friend”
Me: “That is an incredibly stupid thing to say. Did you tell your dad that you lied to us about your ages?”
Old Face: “He knew the entire time”
Me: “What? He knew last night when he chased me that I thought your friend was 18?”
Old Face: “Yeah”
Me: “So why was he upset?”
Old Face: “I don’t know, maybe he was just having fun, but I’m over 18, so we can hang out still”
Me: “No thanks”
I passed through the metal detector. Both of Old Face’s parents were waiting for Mostly Retarded and Old Face to pass through. This is when Old Face’s mother started talking to me.
Old Face’s Mother: “She (referring to Mostly Retarded) doesn’t like you. She’s hanging out with striped shirt guy tonight”
Me: “That’s good. There’s no reason for me to be interacting with her, so I hope she has fun”
Old Face’s Mother: “Really, she doesn’t like you. Striped shirt guy is way better than you, and we all like him”
Me: “Ok, I’m glad everything has worked out for you”
This was the first time in my life that a girl’s mother had attempted to talk shit to me; I can check that off my list of things to accomplish.
I made it back to my room incident-free and then went to get some lunch with my roommate. As we were standing in line for the grill two people approached us: Mostly Retarded and some random curly haired guy. Mostly Retarded informed my roommate that she’s no longer talking to me, but wanted my roommate to accompany her to her room with the random curly haired guy. While Mostly Retarded was telling my roommate these things, curly haired guy started rubbing my roommate’s chest, which was awesome. After my roommate declined Mostly Retarded’s invitation and curly haired guy pried his hands from my roommate, we ate lunch.
The period of time between lunch and dinner was spent sleeping; I dreamt of lollipops and unicorns. I was excited to eat dinner because I would be eating gourmet food in the dining room rather than stale pasta in the cafeteria. My roommate and I were afforded this opportunity the first night of the cruise as well, but that time was spent playing drinking games.
Our table for 8 was comprised of 3 couples, my roommate, and myself. Yes, it made me slightly uncomfortable. In an effort to prove that I was not the bottom in a gay relationship, I inappropriately told the story of Mostly Retarded and Old Face. Everyone pretended to enjoy it, but I could see that the only couple to really appreciate it was the drunken couple. I forget their names, but the drunken couple made a run for the title of “Coolest Old People I Know” when the husband announced to everyone at the table that he could “smell his wife’s menopause”; it was glorious.
After dinner the drunken couple invited me and my roommate to the bar so that we could laugh at the people who were singing karaoke. We were taking seats at the bar when I noticed Old Face’s entire crew seated at a table less than 10 feet away. I informed the drunken couple that those people less than 10 feet away from us were the characters from the story that I had just told, and they immediately began talking shit to them. Well, not really to them, they were just yelling things in the air while coyly looking in the direction of their table. Things like “Why is your entire family fat?”, “I’ll fuck up the dad, let me do it, I’ll do it”, and “Your daughter is gross”. I cannot describe how thoroughly this pleased me.
In an apparent effort to invite even more heckling, Old Face took the stage to sing “Summer Lovin’” from Grease with some douchebag (the kind of guy who agrees to sing a karaoke duet on a cruise ship). All four of us at the bar proceeded to boo mercilessly.
When Old Face returned to her table I noticed that Mostly Retarded was talking to a guy in a striped shirt; this was the aforementioned Striped Shirt Guy. After a few minutes Striped Shirt Guy went to the bar to get a drink, which meant that he was at least 21, and he needed to know that he was attempting to fuck a 16-year-old girl.  I approached Striped Shirt Guy and let him in on the secret. He was 23, shocked, and appalled. In this case, I was the Statutory Rape Fairy.
Reader, let’s contemplate this situation with more of a furrowed brow. Old Face’s dad reportedly knew that I was pursuing Mostly Retarded under false pretenses, but still decided to chase me like a jackass. Presumably he did this for his own entertainment because he was captain giggles at breakfast the next morning. Then Old Face’s entire family tried to trick Striped Shirt Guy into hooking up with Mostly Retarded when they had to have known that Striped Shirt Guy was at least 21 due to his ability to purchase alcohol on the ship. This leads me to believe that Old Face’s crazy circus family had the goal of fucking with unsuspecting guys/ sending unsuspecting guys to prison. This is a terrible goal and Old Face’s freak show family should be berated accordingly. But back to the story…
I then bid farewell to the drunken couple and headed to the casino. Not to gamble, because I had no money, but to look for girls. Again, I was disappointed and proceeded to the Hemisphere Lounge with the same goal. Again, I was disappointed. This cycle continued until I got tired and went to bed.
At about 3:30 in the morning I received a phone call in my room. I answered the phone and heard Mostly Retarded’s voice.
Mostly Retarded: “Hi Jason”
Me: “Hi”
Mostly Retarded: “Remember how we played drinking games last night?”
Me: “Yes”
Mostly Retarded: “Well, I played drinking games tonight with Haas and Deuce (I swear those are the names that she gave me)”
Me: “Ok”
Mostly Retarded: “You’re jealous”
Me: “No, not really”
Mostly Retarded: “(after about 5 seconds of silence)…I love you”
Click.
I guess this is how courtship works in high school now, or maybe just for incredibly stupid girls. I have no idea. However, she did call again that night and asked to speak to my roommate. I told her to hold on a second and then resumed talking, but this time with a deeper tone (my roommate’s voice doesn’t resemble this tone in any way). She simply said “Good night”.
The next morning was spent packing and leaving the ship. To add insult to injury, I noticed a group of 4 cute, twenty-something girls as I was walking through the exit to the boat terminal. I shed a single tear.
I anticipated sharing this story with the JTTS readers, so when I got home I immediately spent time finding [Redacted]; however, the jewel of my search was Mostly Retarded’s default screen on Myspace. I took a screenshot of it and can’t think of any better way to end this story (notice her status). Enjoy…

[All Appendices have been Redacted]