New Job

So this will no longer be Molly’s bitching blog that she constantly forgets to update, but instead her adventures working aboard a cruise ship blog. I recently got a job working as a photographer on a cruise ship in the Caribbean, and made the trip from Portland to Miami yesterday. The trip itself was relatively uneventful, but once I hit Miami, I discovered that people from Miami love to fuck with you. The guy who checked me in at my hotel decided half way through our conversation that he no longer spoke English, but instead would only communicate in Spanish. Really? Any other day, when I hadn’t been traveling for 10 hours, sick and really really freaking tired, I may have thought it was moderately charming, but instead, I wanted to stab the guy. I finally get to my hotel and order delivery sandwiches and the delivery guy, a chatty fellow with an overactive imagination, showed up to deliver the sandwich and just didn’t want to leave. Despite the fact that I had tipped him and tried to push him out the door, he kept right on a talkin’ until I shut the door in his face, no longer caring that I was being rude.
My only instructions for this morning were “find the boat.” Instructive, yes, but helpful, no. So find the boat, I did. It’s a massive thing, you can’t really miss it. Except that there are about 30 others like it in the Fort Lauderdale port. Good thing they have names on the side, or I’d be screwed. I told the security people that I was joining the crew and instructed to “go around the back.” Again, instructive, but not helpful. I found the ‘back,’ which was not the quite the back, just a random side door where a random Filipino man checks your luggage for contraband items. I have no idea what is actually contraband since I made it through with a pocket knife, matches and plenty of food. Maybe I just look like I won’t use them. Don’t underestimate my temper.
I arrived on the boat to a maze of doors and corridors that led to other doors, corridors and staircases that all look alike until you make it to the passenger area which suddenly looks super nice. You know on Titanic when they steal through the crew areas that are all stark white and totally indefinable? That’s how it is. I had 3 hours to acquaint myself with the area, and with my chatty coworkers. Don’t get me wrong, they were a fount of information that I could badly use. However, I realized quickly that British English was not the same as American English. Now, three hours later, I’m still trying to process what he said to me. I’m working with three British citizens, a Romanian, a South African and a Peruvian. And me. The random American. Truth be told, I’ve met one other American crew member so far, and ironically she is from Washington as well. Though the Bremerton area. She was a bit…. bouncy. Apparently my coworkers were told to expect a Southern Belle. I have no idea where that idea came from, but they quickly realized I wasn’t even close to that stereotype.
There’s really no easing you into this job. Instead, you’re just sort of thrown in. Without a life jacket. Already, after only 5 hours of being on the boat, I have worked an hour and a half. I had to interrupt guests’ dinner in order to ask if they wanted Valentine’s pictures done. Stupid Valentine’s Day anyway. I had a very strange moment when my 4th or 5th table turned the tables on me and caught my attention to take MY picture. Who would want a picture of a random photographer wandering the ship? They won’t remember me tonight after drinks, let alone once they return home.
Food aboard the ship is relatively good, though I’m told that it can be a bit ‘dodgy’ at times. Oh, by the way, I’m allowed to have a blood alcohol level of .04 while working, .08 while not working, which is available for free in the crew bar, and available with better liquor in the officer’s bar for $1. Technically I’m an officer. Why would someone trust me with that title? Though the way the ship rocks, there’s no reason to need alcohol in order to feel tipsy. Despite it being a rather large ship, the rocking is still quite noticeable and I have finally realized that there really is an adjustment period in finding my sea legs. I just need to try to not puke in the meantime.
And back to work I go… hi ho, hi ho.