We arrive at the ship and meet our fellow voyagers, most of whom are wearing brand-new sneakers, as though they’re about to compete in the decathlon, as opposed to spending the next five days chewing.
We begin our cruise with a lifeboat drill, lining up in neat rows, wearing our lifejackets, calmly awaiting instructions. In a real emergency, of course, we’d fight for the lifeboats like wild dogs battling for meat. Our sneakers would squish with blood. We have all seen Titanic.
Speaking of meat: It’s time for dinner! In the dining room, we engage in sparkling intellectual repartee with our fellow voyagers—“What are you having?” “I’m having the salmon.” “Really? That’s what I’m having!” “Really?” etc.
After dinner, it’s time to engage in the vast array of shipboard activities, by which I mean: drinking, gambling, and shopping. By midnight, everybody is weary from a long partial day at sea, and it is time to: Eat more! There’s a midnight buffet. Plus, if you pay a little extra, your cabin attendant will come around and stuff food into your mouth while you sleep.
