It’s not exactly Rosie’s Big Gay Cruise Ship, but we’ve decided to consider our current situation as a vacation… yeah that’s it… it’s all a great big vacation. Wooo Hooo! Now you might think that being stuck in a cheap crappy motel in Laredo for a week with no internet doesn’t sound much like a vacation, but it could be worse.
Like let’s say maybe when you finally get your truck back from the shop in Laredo and you head off to New Jersey with your load but you only make it as far as Memphis before your truck is completely a giant paper-weight again and headed into the shop and it’s some damned Holiday or other and the only motel you can find that will accept dogs and has a smoking room that you can afford is even cheaper and crappier than the motel in Laredo and you go ahead and take the room for a week cause the truck can’t possibly be fixed before next Wednesday at the earliest… well when you look at it like that it’s almost identical to a cruise around the Caribbean. We’re so excited. A week in Memphis! I’ve got to go get postcards for everyone back home.
Besides being somewhat cheaper than Rosie’s Big Old Dyke Dinghy, our vacation has things you just can’t get in a cabin on a cruise ship. For example, you are probably never going to glance out your porthole on board ship and see an extremely drunk — extremely dirty — bum leaning his full smelly body against your window. We would have completely missed the fun of watching his cheek slowly skid down the filthy window as he gracefully dropped into a prone position on our doorstep. I mean how is an on-board casino supposed to compare with that for entertainment value?
Also, I know that cruise ships are supposed to have some awesome meals prepared by world-class chefs, but we had both a Pizza Hut and a Dominos that delivered to the motel in Laredo and a Popeyes just a couple of blocks up the road. I mean honestly. AND here in our new Memphis digs we actually found a world famous joint called Corky’s Ribs & BBQ Memphis and since I insisted on keeping the truck until Tuesday when they would actually be there to work on it, I was able to go fetch us up some ribs and such. The diets aren’t exactly flying along as well as they have been, but then we are on vacation so that’s to be expected I suppose. At least Stace isn’t cheating on the carb front which would be bad for the diabetes, so that’s cool.
Another similarity between Rosie’s Fairy Ferry and our vacation is the constant noise. I mean on a ship you’ve got the fog horn, announcements of events, the sea birds, the waves crashing against the hull and of course the noisy revelers having a good time all adding to the pleasant sounds of your holiday. We too have noisy party-goers adding their high-spirited hijinks to the melody of our vacation. And the police sirens. Lots and lots of police sirens. It’s just a non-stop vacation-like party here in Memphis.
It was even better in Laredo where we had someone from housekeeping knock on the door every 45 minutes for several hours every morning. The first morning it started around 0800 when Stace and I had been asleep for about 5 hours. I got up, got dressed, and answered the door. The little lady standing there asked if we wanted housekeeping. I said, “No, thank you” and went back to sleep. This happened seven times the first morning. There was no “Do not disturb” sign or clearly we would have had it out there on the door. The second morning… well… I think we all want to be polite and friendly at all times… but honestly… Stace and I are seriously night people… when the first knock came at 0845… I just stayed in bed and yelled, “No!” The lady yelled back, “HOUSEKEEPING” so I was forced to yell back, “GO AWAY!” They only came by four or five times that morning so that was an improvement I guess. The third morning they only came three or four times. If we had been there a few more days we might have made the concept of night-owl-type people understood by the entire housekeeping staff of hideous Laredo motel. Damned time constraints.
Another thing that people who book a week on Rosie’s Butch Barge look forward to is the chance to become familiar with exotic cultures and meet people they never would have met during their ordinary work-a-day life. We have that on our vacation, too. Earlier today I met a lady who had an overwhelming need to find a yellow pair of socks. She was looking everywhere for those damned elusive yellow socks. I never did find out what she needed the socks for, but I imagine it was for some deeply religious time-honored ritual designed to appease the gods of squeaky shopping cart wheels. Or something like that. I wish I had had a pair of yellow socks cause I would have put them on the sidewalk outside our window just so she would be all happy when she found them. Maybe if I go to Wal-Mart tomorrow I’ll pick up a pair. Wonder if she would prefer crew or tube?
That makes me think of yet another exciting thing people seem to get all worked up about while on vacation… shopping. We haven’t really had any shopping opportunities, but then it’s not like we would be shopping on Rosie’s Femme Frigate either. Let’s face it, Stace and I hate shopping. If we were on Rosie’s Super Sapphic Steamer I would be doing the exact same thing I have been doing for the past week — playing a computer game that Stace recently bought called “Diablo II: Lord of Destruction” which is a seriously kick-ass quest type game.
I am currently stomping through the game as “NeoHedon” an uber-barbarian with double kick-ass broad swords and a wicked two-fisted attack spell which only costs two mana points and means that I swing both swords at once. I’m telling you I am uber-studly. So don’t listen to Stace if she comes on here later and says that I look like I’m prancing around on my tiptoes as I stride fearlessly across the landscape. And sure there for a while I did appear to be wearing a dark blue skirt… but I traded that in at the armour seller’s tent so now I have a studly suit of glowing chain mail armour that not only provides kick-ass defense points but also increases how far I can see while exploring the caves hunting for treasure. Oh and sure my helmet was a little fruity there for a while but now I have a kick-ass jaw-bone helmet made from some fierce animal that increases my poison resistance and raises my mana by 10 points. The point here is that regardless of what Stace might say I am now an UBER-BARBARIAN-STUD and have spent the past few days happily wandering through the land kicking monster ass and restoring peace and light to the downtrodden peasants.
Doesn’t much matter if it’s on Rosie’s Tranny Tug or at the cheapest skeezy motel in Memphis… I love me some vacation.