I was working as the entertainment coordinator on the Freedom 65 Caribbean Escape Cruise Ship. It was a shitty gig… but it paid the bills. We usually had at least one customer per journey who would either croak or have to be air lifted out. The ship always smelled sorta like Old Spice, dust and onions, and there would be at least a dozen bridge games going on at any given time. The good thing about these cruises, was that the ship went quiet after 10pm, because all of the old raisins got tired and went to bed… So that left plenty of time for us young and reckless staff to enjoy ourselves. The bad thing, was that the raisins were waiting for the buffet breakfast to open at 5:45 am every morning without fail… and if the eggs and bacon and juice weren’t out on display promptly at 6am… Fuck, you’d have a gaggle of whining, demanding, unsatisfied seniors on your ass following you around shaking their cold and clammy fingers at you.
I had a thing for Toze the salsa instructor. He was as sexy as they came, and I always got a kick out of watching him teach the weathered birds how to shake their fractured hips! He really gave them what they paid for. Made them feel like they were sexy desirable women, no matter how ancient and frail or annoying they were. I admired that about him.
One day he was privately teaching a blue hair some salsa moves. She was loving it, throwing her head back in delight, smiling so hard that her turkey giblets were quivering. I couldn’t help but stand there and watch adoringly. But then… I was absolutely shocked when I saw her wrinkly, vein riddled hands firmly grip the cheeks of his perfect ass and squeeze… Oh yeah… this old Sabre tooth had balls. I felt all of the blood rush to my head as I saw Captain Cocoon squeeze the old birds ass right back. This was the point where I had to go. I couldn’t watch this… It was literally making me ill. My shift was done for the day so I went to the bar to get lubricated at the piano bar.
After a few rounds of tequila and some dry martini’s I realized that I was just sloppy drunk. It wasn’t pretty. The bridge crowd had cleared out and I was debating the social relevance of war veterans with a decorated World War II vet named Roger. Eventually he realized that I didn’t have a point and was just looking to argue, so he offered to escort me back to my room.
On the way back to my room we (actually just me, since Roger was almost deaf) heard a cry for help coming from the pool area. It sounded like a woman and it sounded like she was in pain. In my drunken uncoordinated state I ran across the deck to see what was happening, I tripped on a deck chair and fell flat on my face. While I was lying on the ground I looked to the side and saw Toze, fucking the old blue hair doggy style on a deck chair a few feet away. I looked at him and he looked at me and she gasped and it was awkward… and it was fucking weird. Then Roger caught up and it got weirder:
“Hazel, is that you?”
“What’s going on here? Was he violating you? Young man you had better explain yourself to me before I call security. I don’t like the looks of this.”
Toze was quiet. He looked at me with absolute embarrassment. The look on his face said “please tell me that this is a dream and that I didn’t just get caught fucking a 72 year old woman doggy style on the pool deck.” Unfortunately I could not be a source of compassion for him and instead blurted out “ewww you’re gross. that’s really fucked up!”
Hazel scurried to put her dress back on, and was trying (albeit unsuccessfully) to salvage whatever dignity she had left. As she was putting on her orthopedic loafers she started gasping for air. Toze panicked and did the only thing he knew how, which was ramming his tongue down her throat… Okay, so maybe it was CPR, but it looked pretty rude and inappropriate! Hazel lost consciousness and never pulled through. She died right there in front of us, and the only thing I could think to say to Toze was; “…and I would have fucked you too.”