The Giddy Mystery Cruise – Day Two: A Long Walk to the Pier and the Salad Incident
The decision to leave a day earlier continued to prove wise, as it was a lovely warm Saturday. After a buffet breakfast of fake eggs we decided to walk the mile or so to the port area. Take a few photos of the boats, check out the area. Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that it was of course a closed pier, and a rather stern port guard yelled at us and made us feel very bad. We were told to go away and come back tomorrow when we’d actually be allowed into the pier. We turned and walked back – pausing only slightly on the drawbridge that crosses the canal to take some long distance pictures of the big boats that were at the dock.Heading back to the hotel we grabbed a couple of pricey smoothies and some Chianti. Then decided to hang by the pool and enjoy the warm sun for awhile. We didn’t feel the least bit guilty thinking about our fellow New Yorkers dealing with the ice, cold and snow – after all we were on vacation! We eventually got up and sat at a little poolside table area for lunch. While waiting for our wrap and salad (or was it a salt lick and lard tub?) we encountered some poor examples of the type of New Yorkers that give the rest of us a bad name.
Seems no matter where you travel, there’s always some sort of interest that New Yorkers tend to draw. “Ohhh…look Cletis, those folks o’er yonder are from Neeew York”. We seem too to carry a bit of a reputation for being nasty and surly. Loud and obnoxious. Now, if you happened to meet The Giddy family – you’d certainly not think that, matter of fact I’d bet you’d find us to be rather charming and pleasant, but I digress.
There’s a table of about 7 or 8 people behind us – and all but two of them had their lunch brought out. The waiter told them that there was a slight delay but that the two missing salads would be out within five minutes. It’s pretty tragic really. So the five minutes pass and most of that time is spent listening to these self-important entitled jerks kvetch over and over of how appalled they are that some of their party have their food, but two folks do not. I’m telling you it was tragic, we were beginning to really share in their pain. I had to hold Chrissy back from stepping over to the table to assist the group in rationing out the food so that all of them could enjoy some lettuce and tomatoes at the same time when the missing salads finally arrive. Rejoice!
But the recipients do not, quite the contrary. They proceed to blather on and on about how appalling the service is and how they should be compensated for the wait. They think everyone’s meal should be comp-ed. I can’t help at this point but wonder if some of our nations homeless would be this upset if they had to wait a few extra moments for a meal. The waiter, though obviously biting his tongue, suggests they speak to a manager and offers to go inside and ask the manager to come out and apologize for the unforgivable oversight personally. Not good enough for our hungry queen bitch. Even in her weakened state from the deprivation of a timely lunch she gets up and says she’ll march proudly inside and speak to the manager there.
I’ll regret the fact that I did not react quickly enough to accidently stick out my foot as she waddled her fat ass by our table on her way in to complain. That would have been worth the full cost of the trip!
We paid our bill and left a little extra tip because we didn’t want our waiter to permanently have a sour outlook of New Yorkers and went inside to sit at the bar, drink beer and watch football as we waited for young Miss Giddy to arrive. She had been spending a few days in “Hell’s Waiting Room” and was taking the short flight over to Fort Lauderdale in the late afternoon. When she arrived at the hotel we greeted her in our normal embarrassing manner by shouting her name loudly and running about like game show contestants as she entered the lobby.
Keeping with the Giddy tradition of eating in restaurants that are called “Grumpy” something, “Crabby” something or “Nutty” something, we had some burgers at a place called Grumpy Gators – which oddly enough boasted a staff filled with people who all appeared somewhat pissed off, but none too sure at what. After dinner it was an early night back at the Embassy Suites, just a little time annoying other guests in the elevators, rolling around the hall on the fancy ottoman’s from our room and some quick antics with the ironing board.
We all decided we needed our rest for tomorrow we set sail!