Coming to Terms With the Ugly American...In the Mirror

So, I have been lax in posting, and I’m sure my massive audience of two is terribly upset. I wanted to make the next blog about the job offer, the itinerary and the ship I’d be working on. However, the official job offer hasn’t been made yet, so you’ll have to settle for this.

I’m anxious to go, although there are aspects of the job that make it a tad...interesting. The wardrobe leaves a lot to be desired. First, there is the day to day uniform of an oversized polo shirt often in jarring and objectionable blocks of color. Think rugby jerseys without actually supporting an established team to justify it. Then there are the khaki shorts. My fear is that I will look like Walter Sobchak:


The last aspect of the daily uniform are the requisite white sneakers. My fear when traveling outside of the United States is to be outed as an American. I didn’t speak in public in the Netherlands as a result of this irrational fear—unbelievable but very true…and very crazy. Moving on. This job will give me the opportunity to wear the unofficial American tourist uniform every bloody day for six months. Thankfully the belly pack and the sports team sweatshirt are not part of the required attire. Maybe I’ll be able to exorcise some of my neurotic demons. Although I doubt it. The crazy goes very deep indeed.

Then there is another element of the job which is entertaining the guests onboard, part of which is done via theme nights. Now I used to do musical theatre, so I don’t mind embarrassing myself (hell, most of my best stories involve large helpings of public humiliation), but I do have to say that “Country Night” frightens me. I find the idea of actually owning cowboy boots to be an unsettling idea. Worse is doing a line dance while wearing them. If dancing doesn’t involve a pole, then I’m not very good at it. However, if I get to look like Dale Evans while doing it, it might not be all bad.