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Dear Cruise Buffet Patrons:

Unlike most people apparently, I do not go on a cruise to eat. I go on a cruise to turn off my phone without guilt and spend time reading magazines and playing Uno with friends and family.

Some of you live for the food. That is clear from your behavior during the times I did visit the buffet for sustenance.

Unfortunately, you left your manners back in port (if you had them to begin with).

Let me offer a refresher on proper buffet behavior:

  • DO wear shoes. Yes, this goes for your kids too.
  • DO pull up your pants. Ass crack is not appetizing.
  • DO take advantage of the hand sanitizer at the door. No one wants your germs anywhere near the food.
  • DO understand that there is enough food for everyone. I guarantee it. No need to shove. For example, just look at this mound of bacon:

At least one pig was more than harmed in the making of this pork pile.

  • DO say “thank you” if someone hands you the bacon tongs. DO NOT be a jerk.
  • DO say excuse me if your belly nearly knocks over a child. It’s just the right thing to do.
  • DO be nice to the wait staff. They work 10 hours a day for seven months with few breaks.
  • DO take small portions of the things you want to try. The best thing about a buffet is that you can go back for more if you are still hungry. Otherwise, you are throwing away good food.

    So much food goes to waste on a cruise.

  • DO chew with your mouth closed. You should have learned this by now.
  • DO NOT, under any circumstances, start talking if you have food in your mouth. Please.
  • DO NOT eat your steak with one hand while you walk around the buffet area with your plate in the other. (True story.) It’s shocking I would have to remind you that good manners dictate that steak is to be eaten at the table with a knife and fork.
  • Really, DO NOT eat anything off your plate or the buffet in the buffet area.

To be honest, this list goes for all buffets everywhere – not just on a cruise. If necessary, print this list for future reference. Your fellow diners will thank you.

Sincerely supportive of sneezeguards,
Beth

 

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Dear Readers:

Every year, we go on a weeklong cruise with friends.* Four different families are involved, but not all families go every year. This year, three families spent a week on the Royal Caribbean Oasis of the Seas. There were 11 of us: six adults and five kids.

Families present:
Patrick, Petra, Ryder (13), Mia (9)
Edgar (aka Eggy), Sophia, Ava (9)
Eddie, me, Dominic (13), Gideon (12)

Here is the week in quotes (all accurate, I swear):

DAY ONE: Port Canaveral
Setting: Four adults and four children are walking in a single-file line down the narrow stateroom hallway on Deck 12 to make way for an old lady on a scooter.
Patrick: “Excuse us.”
Hag: “It’s too late for that now.”
(Note: Were we supposed to spring to the ceiling like spider people to make more room?)

 

DAY TWO: At sea
Setting: Breakfast at Johnny Rockets
Server to Eggy: “You want omelet?”
Eggy: “Sure.”
Server: “Hamchee?”
Eggy: “Hamchee?”
Server: “Hamchee omelet. You can have ham and chee. Or plain ham with chee. Or a little chee with some ham. Ham and chee.”

Setting: One of the many pool areas on Deck 15
Patrick to me as I’m peacefully sipping a fruity drink: “You paid $12.95 for that?”
Me: “Yes, but there is a souvenir glass!”

Setting: Same place, but about 10 minutes later
Server to me: “You want another one?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
Server, holding up rum bottle: “With medication?”
Me: “Lord, yes.”

 

DAY THREE: At sea
Setting: Outside Patrick/Petra’s cabin as we are getting ready to go to lunch
Ryder: Gideon and I just heard a guy knock on the door like this: [Ryder says “Room Service, Room Service” while rhythm knocking on the door]
Gideon and Dominic start doing two different dances from Fortnite: Orange Justice (Dominic) and the Floss (Gideon) while chanting/singing, “Room Service, Room Service.” This becomes a refrain for all of us the rest of the week.

Setting: The first formal night
Angry old guy walking down hallway: “I’m not dressing up for nobody.”

 

DAY FOUR: Philipsburg, St. Maarten
Setting: Our cabin where a medley of children and adults are playing Uno. Dominic is gnawing on candy that just appeared in the room.
Me to Dominic: “Who bought that candy?”
Patrick: “I think Petra did.”
Me to Dominic: “Of course. You never use your money to buy anything.”
Dominic: “I would if you’d let me access my funds.”

DAY FIVE: San Juan, Puerto Rico
Setting: Breakfast at the Windjammer buffet
Me to Sophia: “I realized I didn’t bring enough pants. I guess I’ll just be Pooh-ing it up the rest of the trip.”

Setting: Still breakfast
Server to all: “You want sticky bun?”
All (with variation): “No, thanks.”
Ryder and Gideon using the “Room Service” rhythm after the server leaves: “Sticky Bun, Sticky Bun!”

Setting: Deck chairs near sports pool area after we leave San Juan
Patrick to me: “You aren’t getting a drink?”
Me: “No, it’s $12.95, and there’s not even a souvenir glass.”
(Note: What a difference a few days makes.)

Setting: Evening at the lobster dinner
Patrick to all: “Should we meet later at the Windjammer? The ass jammer?”
Me, after misunderstanding Patrick: “The ass chamber?”

 

DAY SIX: Labadee, Haiti
Setting: Beach after the water park where we were not allowed to bring hats, sunglasses, coverups or a magic cave in which to hide
Patrick to me: “You look a little lobster-y.”
Petra to me, five minutes later: “Uh oh, you got some color.”

Setting: Dazzles bar where the six adults are playing Joking Hazard
Petra to all: “There’s not enough dick talk in here. We should create our own rude game.”

 

DAY SEVEN: At sea
Setting: Breakfast at the newly christened Ass Chamber buffet
Eddie to no one in particular: “I’m getting into the wine at 2 today.”

Setting: Low-stakes blackjack table at the casino
Me to Eggy and Patrick: “Do you want me to get out [of my seat] so you can play?”
Patrick**: You play your game, girlie.

 

DAY EIGHT: Back in port
Setting: The pool at the hotel where we had to stay over before going home
Dominic to Eddie and me: “I’m not going in the lazy river anymore.”
Me: “Why?”
Dominic: “Some kid peed.”
Me: “How do you know?”
Dominic: “You don’t just go up to your sister and say ‘I just peed’ if you didn’t pee.”

More cruise posts to follow, including one about the buffet. (I know you can’t wait!)

Love,
Beth

* Luckily I had paid for this when we were flush — long before our Savannah house sat on the market (and sat and sat and sat). (I haven’t written about that because it is still too painful. Not at the funny point yet.)

** There’s so much from Pat here. It’s because A) he’s funny and B) we are the two in the group who love to play games, so we are together more than most. Most of the others like to work out. Shudder.

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Dear Sun,

I’m glad you exist, but we need to talk.

I spent a week at the beach but DELIBERATELY tried to avoid you. You may have noticed that I’m a white girl. Very white. Milky even. And I try to stay that way.

I’m married to and have birthed brown people. Go hang out with them. They love you and have no adverse effects.

I, however, am traumatized by my experiences with you.

Remember how you harassed me in the Dominican Republic when I tried so hard to escape you? I was in the shade of a building, wearing sunscreen, a one-piece bathing suit AND a cover up. Somehow I still got burned. On my stomach. (For real.)

There are two kinds of people who go to the beach: People who want to “lay out” to worship you and people like me, who enjoy the scenery and experience but need a cave.

Here are examples of the first:

And here’s my cave:

My chair is the one completely in the shade.

Here’s a lady who is in the second category but thinks she is in the first. (Lily White is going to be in so much pain.):

And here’s a velvet bikini, because I didn’t know such things existed:

Anyway, despite my best efforts, you attacked me again. My arms and chest are red. HOW? The only time I emerged from my shady haven was to visit the loo.

I probably should have set up camp UNDER the pavilion like these people:

Now I need aloe.

Thanks so much, friend.

Warm SPF 100 wishes,
Beth

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Dear loyal readers,

If you have been with me here for a while, you know that grammar and punctuation often are topics for posts. Many moons ago, I wrote a few posts about words I hate. I also wrote the antithesis post. Two, actually.

But I have a new list with a theme.

Always an anglophile, I’ve become even more obsessed with all things England after my recent trip. As you all know.

[Before you get your knickers in a twist (explanation below) about this obsession, just know that my fixations come and go, roughly lasting two weeks to a month (memory refreshers here, here and here). Bear with me; it’s almost over. Also, I’ve been bingeing “Game of Thrones.” Cut me some slack.]

Hence: British words I love (in alphabetical order, because I’m proper like that)

  • ace and, sometimes, aces (adjectives): excellent

Use it in a sentence, please: “That’s ace!” Trish said when her telephonophobic friend finally called her back instead of texting.

  • barmy and barking (adjectives): mad, crazy

Use it in a sentence, please: Eddie thought his wife had gone barmy for going out every weekend.

  • bollocks and bollocking (nouns): nonsense, verbal trash; trashing, telling off

Use it in a sentence, please: Si spent way too much time talking bollocks. Meanwhile, Clair gave Karl a royal bollocking for sleeping during the set. (In his defense, he did have to get up at 6 a.m.)

  • candyfloss (noun): cotton candy

Use it in a sentence, please: Her late grandmother’s hair was blue and spun into an orb like candyfloss at the circus.

  • caravan (noun): RV

Use it in a sentence, please: Hannah is contemplating a caravan rental for the music festival.

  • car park (noun): parking lot/garage

Use it in a sentence, please: Terry didn’t like to go to new places because he worried about finding adequate car parks.

  • cheeky (adjective): impertinent

Use it in a sentence, please: Gideon is becoming quite the cheeky monkey.

  • chuffed (adjective): pleased

Use it in a sentence, please: Hazel was chuffed to little mint balls.

  • dodgy (adjective): sketchy

Use it in a sentence, please: She fled to the ladies room to avoid the dodgy fellow at the bar.

  • faff (verb and noun): to waste time (v) or a time-waster (n)

Use it in a sentence, please: Dominic felt that any interaction with his family was a bit of a faff.

  • gutted (adjective): really upset

Use it in a sentence, please: Beth was gutted about what that asshole Ramsay Bolton did to Theon Greyjoy.

  • hoover (verb): vacuum

Use it in a sentence, please: She accidentally hoovered up the slip of paper on which she wrote an important email address.

  • jacket potato (noun): baked potato

Use it in a sentence, please: Do I really need to?

  • kit (noun): clothing

Use it in a sentence, please: “Come on then, get your kit off,” she had her hero say to the heroine in the sex book she was writing.

  • knackered (adjective): exhausted

Use it in a sentence, please: Cris was knackered Sunday morning after staying out so late the night before.

  • knickers (noun): panties (yes, I love this word too)

Use it in a sentence, please: I already did (see above). (Knickers in a twist = panties in a bunch)

  • pinched and nicked (verbs): stole

Use it in a sentence, please: René pinched some candy from the jar on Beth’s desk.

  • rogering (noun): sex

Use it in a sentence, please: Once the heroine had gotten her kit off, the hero gave her a good rogering.

  • rubbish (should be a noun, but Brits use it as an adjective): worthless

Use it in a sentence, please: I’m rubbish at this Twitter malarkey.

  • skip (noun): dumpster

Use it in a sentence, please: The teenager’s mother got so angry at him that she threw all his Xbox games in the skip.

  • shambolic (adjective): very disorganized, confused

Use it in a sentence, please: The shambolic mess of a woman straggled home after a night out way past her bedtime.

  • shirty (adjective): bad-tempered or aggressive

Use it in a sentence, please: Barry reminded his old girlfriend that the night of the first Tommy Stinson experience was also the night she got into a scrap at the front of the stage because some girl got shirty with her.

  • the tits (adjective): fantastic

Use it in a sentence, please: That shit is the tits.

  • wee (should be a verb, but Brits use it as a noun): pee

Use it in a sentence, please: I went for a wee,” the crazy American shouted to everyone within earshot at the club.

I have heard or read all of these in just the past month. I’ve used some of them. It’s made conversations more interesting.

(British friends, if I have got it all to cock, please make sure I’m sorted. I promise I won’t throw a wobbly.)

 

Side note: This was in the British aisle of my local international market. Pretty sure it should have been Marmite. (I was looking for mushy peas. No, they’re not gross. Shut up.)

Cheerio!
Beth

 

 

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Dear Brits,

I love you. You know I do. As I recently found out thanks to the results from the Ancestry DNA kit, I have at least 18 percent of you in my system (the geography nerd in me is a little confused by how Scotland and Wales are somehow marked separately from Great Britain, though). Look here:

Anyway, I’ve always been an anglophile, thanks to my burning desire for Adam Ant.

So when I needed time away to complete a project I’ve been procrastinating on for a year and a half, I chose your chilly, tea-soaked environs. Thankfully, I had a Delta voucher, vacation time available, and two long-time friends who live within 20 minutes of each other.

These are a few of my favorite things:

1. The pubs. Within a one-block radius in Uttoxeter, for example, I worked on my project at The Black Swan, The Old Swan, The Old Star, Ye Olde Talbot and The Vault. The Guinness was spectacular at all.

2. Coffee. I have no shits to give about tea (sorry), but you have proper coffee. I love that you feel free to order cappuccino at all times of the day.

3. Friendliness. You love Americans like mothers love their weird, wayward sons. I was a source of curiosity in every pub I visited to write. Many of you wanted to know what I thought about Donald Trump. (I try not to think about him.) Many of you were pleased at my beer of choice. Every pub played American music, which amused the crap out of me as I am the biggest fan of the Second British Invasion.

4. The TV. No one does television better than you. There is no way anyone else (except maybe the Dutch) would have given the world “Naked Attraction.” The promo line? “A daring dating series that starts where some good dates might end — naked.”

It’s not pixelated at 10 p.m. on a weeknight. I’m shocked. And hooked.

5. The language. I’m tickled at your phrases. The terms of endearment alone sold me (“Duck,” “Shug,” “Love”). I’m definitely “sorted” at the moment. I’m using “straightaway” instead of “now.” I’m in love with “posh” (the word, not the Spice Girl).

I could listen to you all day. And did:

“She wants a wee!” — said by Man One to Man Two as I was trying to slide past Man Two to get to the ladies room.

“We’ve replaced you with someone far more attractive. You weren’t doing your job, so we’ve sacked you.” — Man Three to Man Four as I was sitting in his seat at the pub.

6. Your bluntness. Take this sign, for example.

Harsh. I feel sorry for the Simon Howie haggis. They can dream, I guess.

Anyway, thank you for being you. I hope to see you again soon.

Tra!
Beth

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trumpbot-128663

Dear (M)all of ‘Murica:

I’m writing to request information regarding your return/exchange policy on The Donald that we received Nov. 8 as an early Christmas gift.

Some background: We tried to order The Hillary, but were told there was a problem with the email server.

It appears, however, that The Donald has this same glitch, among other problems.

Voice command override:
We tried to program it numerous times with numerous voice samples, but it refuses to respond.

False warning signals:
This model tends to beep for no reason beginning around 3 a.m. We are hard-working Americans who want to get some sleep. We can’t have The Donald bleating codes such as “MERYL” and “NYT” over and over.

Security issues:
The Donald was billed as a unit that would keep us safe. However, I’m more worried about break-ins than ever before. The unit is inside barking, “Come at me, Bro!” and “Cash me outside; how bow dah!,” which I think is egging on those with bad intentions. Plus, it won’t let in the people we invited.

Failure to work with existing systems:
Almost immediately upon arrival, The Donald refused to work with other units already in place. It overrode the sensors on various technology and tried to shut them down. Some systems are back up and running on alternative power, but others still are refusing to connect.

Low energy efficiency:
The Donald was billed as a unit that that would increase energy efficiency and protect the environment. However, the model has two pipes that could start leaking oil at any moment.

These are just five of the many problems with this model. We would like to return The Donald as it clearly is as defective as we had heard prior to receiving it. The limited warranty expired Jan. 20.

Line 25 of your operating manual gives some guidance on your return/exchange policy, but I’d like more details, a timeline and information about a replacement.

I know you have The Pence in stock, but I’m not interested in that model because its features are limited. The Ryan has numerous reported defects. I’ve heard The Sanders is on back order and The Kasich is out of stock indefinitely. What other options do you have? Do I have to wait for The Libtard 2020 or The Snowflake 2024?

Please respond at your earliest convenience. We are losing long-time friends because of The Donald, and it is scaring the children.

Eagerly awaiting a resolution,
Beth (and 65+ million others)

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Dear Delta,

I thought we were exclusive. I thought you cared. But then you wanted a three-way with WestJet.

It’s not OK.

I’m monogamous. I’m loyal. I booked my trip to be with you.

But then you were all, “I have this big project in L.A. and I can’t take you to Vancouver. WestJet will take you.”

And WestJet is the college roommate whose tooth got knocked out in a bar fight. And he might have herpes. And toe fungus.

WestJet had a few screws loose — literally.

WestJet did not inspire confidence. WestJet treated me like some random person when I’m used to the special treatment I get from you, Delta, because you recognize how much time and money I spend with you. WestJet turned on the air and wanted to charge me for a blanket. Delta, are you listening to me?

Yes, I know: #firstworldproblems.

But I care about our relationship, and I want to make it work. Make it up to me: Take me out, treat me well, and we can forget this ever happened.

Deal?

Loyally yours,
Beth

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Maybe he just likes to share

Dear Sir:

You look like a well-put-together gentleman ready for a day of traveling with meetings upon arrival. You’ve taken pride in your appearance. Your shirt is crisp, shoes shined. You look like you have some sense.

I’m beginning to think that looks can be deceiving.

Why are you watching videos on your phone with the volume turned up as loud as it can go? You are aware that this is a public place, being an airport and all, right?

Please sir, use headphones or wait until you are alone. Match your wits to that sharp appearance. Your fellow travelers will thank you.

Sincerely,

Beth

 

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Dear Embassy Suites Baymeadows Management:

My friend Tammy and I stayed at your property recently. I made the reservation via the hotel website, which indicated that the atrium was under renovation. I didn’t understand this to mean your hotel is a full-blown construction site. 



The atrium, such as it is





View from the breakfast table



View from the room



I really don’t think you should be open during this renovation.

I certainly don’t think you should be hosting an anime convention AND trying to accommodate regular guests, all while under construction. 



Furries saunter through the atrium



It was like an anime prom: high school kids chaperoned by beleaguered parents



Complete with dance party



And puppy pile of those too exhausted to dance



For “regular” guests, there was nowhere to go for peace. The pool was even overrun by a pack of hormonal teen boys.



It was an … interesting experience. It wasn’t one I’d like to repeat. So please post this warning on your website to spare others the discomfort we felt:

Warning: Hotel is a construction site that may be infested with teenagers high on testosterone and/or the thrill of trading Pokemon cards.

That should do it.

Thanks for your consideration,

Beth

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67517_600Dear USPS deciders-in-chief:

I think I know why the USPS is in trouble.

  1. I went to my local post office to mail Christmas cards at the beginning of December. They did not have any holiday stamps. None. What’s up with that?
  2. In the middle of December, I requested a mail hold for a three-day span. Two days after it expired, I still had not received my mail. I called my local post office to find out the mail’s whereabouts. The woman on the phone seemed to have no understanding of how the online mail hold request system worked, no idea where my mail was, or how to reach my carrier. She said they don’t have cell phone numbers for carriers because they are not allowed to contact them while they are out. Um … what?!?
  3. I needed to mail a package to my brother-in-law at the end of December. My local post office printed a label for Priority Mail at a cost of $55. Shocked by that price, I balked. The woman told me that there was nothing she could do because she already printed the postage sticker. I had to pay the price.

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
— inscription on the James Farley Post Office in New York City

Yeah, well, crappy management might.
— Beth, consumer

Is this just December craziness or evidence of a larger problem? I’m inclined to choose the latter because of this:

I need to renew Dominic’s passport. As he is a minor, he must come in person to an authorized passport location, along with Eddie and me. There are only two post offices in Savannah where you can renew minor passports: The main post office on Fahm Street and the Eisenhower branch.

The process took fewer than five minutes last time. The agent had to look at the identification for all three of us and sign the form.

Yet now you require an appointment. An appointment! And when I called to make this appointment, I couldn’t get one for three weeks. Really?!? Is that your bright idea or does it belong to some genius at the U.S. Department of State?

Also, there are no Saturday appointments, so that means I have to pull Dominic out of school, and Eddie and I have to take off work to go to this appointment. Brilliant.

If you’d like to stay in business, you might want to consider customer needs a bit more. Just a thought!

Sincerely,
Beth

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