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Jan Fisher's Guide to Cruising
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| Being
There or Being Square
After this areticle was written, Andy Glazer approached us and told us that a reader's comments had caused him to rethink the attempts at humor he used in reference to the lifeboat drill. He thought it was important for everyone to have a sense of what to do, even though the ships are extremely safe, and urges all cruise participants to do the smart thing and NOT hide in their cabins. I was asleep, in the middle of a dream where I was working in my garden, trying to save it from washing away during Los Angeles' rainy season, when Chance intervened, and a phone call snapped me from the arms of Morpheus. Card Player Cruise's Bonnie Damiano was calling to see if I was interested in chronicling another seafaring adventure, this time to the Eastern Caribbean. I'd been on one of these floating cocktail parties before, to the Mexican Riviera, and while my brain and libido were saying "yes, yes, yes," my liver was shouting "No, No, No!" I decided to remain neutral and let my mouth arbitrate the dispute. "I like to watch," I said. "Even after the harshest of winters, Spring inevitably follows, renewing the circle of life." "Unless you're quoting obscure movie lines again, I don't know what you've been smoking, Andy," Bonnie said. "I think a little too much of that Esalen Zen philosophy has sunk into your brain cells. I just want to know if you're interested in a good deal on a cruise to four beautiful warm tropical islands in a few weeks, on the Italian cruise ship Costa Victoria." "Let me get this straight," I said. "You want to send me on a cruise to the Caribbean, where I can play in poker games against people who have been overeating and overdrinking, and during my off hours, I can watch lithe tanned young Italian women stroll around in swimsuits too racy for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, and all I have to do to earn this way-cheaper-than-normal deal is write a story about it?" "That's more or less it," Bonnie replied. "I could have sworn I was dreaming before the phone rang," I said. "It sounds like a rotten job, but somebody has to do it." Alert the Media, Part I: Reading the Directions Can Help! Bonnie sent me a packet of materials, and shortly after receiving this packet I realized I'd probably gotten way too much in touch with my feminine side during my Esalen years, because I did something no self-respecting male would ever consider. I read the directions. Not only did I read them, but I also followed them, even though one of the items seemed to make no sense. "Attach the red Costa Victoria luggage tags to your baggage before you leave home," the directions said. "That's stupid," I thought. "The baggage handlers at the airport will just get confused, or tear them off. Do they think I'll lose the damn things if I don't put them on at home?" I was operating on short rest, though, and was too tired to argue with myself. I put the tags on, and when I got off the plane in Ft. Lauderdale, a nattily dressed Costa representative told me that because I'd pre-tagged the bags, not only did I not have to go to baggage claim, but their people would pick them up, and deliver them directly to my cabin on the ship. Now I was completely screwed. I'd read the directions, just one lousy time, and this had transformed a process that would have been cumbersome and awkward into something carefree and effortless. If I remembered this lesson, I'd be stuck reading the directions for the rest of my life. All Aboard the Good Ship Costa Victoria This timesaving bonus allowed me to visit with some friends who live in the Ft. Lauderdale area. Eventually they dropped me at the Port of Ft. Lauderdale, and I carried my little portfolio of documents and laptop inside, bravely trying not to recall what a pain it had been to carry all my non-tagged luggage aboard myself on the Mexican Riviera cruise. Another of the nattily dressed Costa personnel handed me a card with a number on it, and told me to have a seat until my number was called. This was all going way too easy. Surely I could find a dark cloud if I looked hard enough. Let's see, I know - I won't know anyone on the cruise! I'll be lonely! I'll be stuck playing lots of poker, sitting in the hot tub on deck, and visiting dreamy Caribbean islands (it's tough to be a pessimist in some situations). Yeah, that's it, I won't know anyone… "Hi, Andy," said Richie Korbin, a friend from the Los Angeles poker world, as he strolled up. "Didn't know you were going to be on this cruise." "Hi, Richie," I said, brightening. "I didn't know either, until a little while ago. It was such a good offer, I still think I might be dreaming, actually." "You're not dreaming," he said, "and it's good to see you, but you look like hell. Are you sick?" I detailed a late but ultimately profitless night of poker at the Commerce ($116,000 first prize limit hold'em event, 400 entrants, 27 places paid, 35th place finish, just the way I like it), a red-eye flight that had featured the third-worst crying baby I could remember (the worst ever was on an Los Angeles-Atlanta flight, and the second-worst ever had been knocked out with six tables to go at the Commerce), and calculated that I had probably slept only about three hours in the last sixty. "It shows," he said, not unkindly. "Get yourself some sleep when you get on board." That was my plan, but when I got to my room - an outside cabin this time, I had learned my lesson on the good ship Elation - I found one king-sized bed. This would not have been a problem, except that I already knew Bonnie had paired me with a roommate I hadn't met, a fellow named Richard Engle, and while I'd grown a good deal more liberal in my thinking in my Esalen days, I hadn't gotten that broadminded. I called the cabin steward and explained that while I had no doubt Mr. Engle was a very handsome man, one bed for the two of us was not going to cut it. "No problem, I fix up right away," he said in fractured but eager to please English. "Is actually two beds, all the rooms set up that way, I split apart, put on opposite sides of the cabin." With Richard and I now each reassured that we weren't going to be boldly going where no man had gone before, I wandered up to enjoy the free cocktail party for the 200 or so Card Player Cruises cruisers, wolfed down a few margaritas, accepted my free t-shirt, sunglasses and waterproof key and change holder, went to dinner, ate an enormous meal, went to my room, and, party animal that I am, stayed there for the next 48 hours. >> Continue reading >> 1, 2, 3 ©2001 Andrew N. S. Glazer |
Andrew
N.S. Glazer was a respected poker tournament reporter who wrote
for many gaming and mainstream publications. Called a "poker scholar"
by Newsweek, Glazer was the author of Casino Gambling
the Smart Way, and wrote a weekly gambling column for the Detroit
Free Press. He wrote regular poker features for several websites.
He was also a regular columnist at Card Player Magazine.| |