Tag Archives: goodbyes

Leaving Bayonne – Dinner Guests Pt2


When we arrived at the port on our first day, we got behind some poor lady who’s scooter back tire had given up the ghost.

What the hell does that mean, “Given up the ghost”?

Anyway. She was trudging along in front of us and we felt sorry for her as she barked orders at her husband and daughter. It can’t be good to start out a vacation with a flat tire.

To our surprise, she and her family were placed at our table. They were from Philly so conversation came easy for them. Especially her, Sue. The thing about Sue wasn’t how easy she could command a conversation (never a dull quiet moment with her – thankfully the content was interesting) but how much she resembled Mrs Puff from Spongebob Squarepants. (Bad video, but the voice and general body size is there)

They were a nice family and I did enjoy their company. She didn’t ask us if we were “brothers” and I suspect she sussed us out within minutes, however she didn’t ask about our relationship until day 10 or so. No matter, she had some doozey stories about drinking, children, cats, food, the army, various family members in the army, their grandson (who didn’t take is face out of his portable gamething all dinner long), hunting, you get the picture. If it happened, she could relate. But she wasn’t one-uppity with her stories.

On the last night of our cruise we all talked about packing and getting to our various homes and such. Depressing conversation about going back to the real world. At the end of the meal, we all stood and said our goodbyes, hugged our waiter and assistant waiter and gave each other hearty handshakes…

…except Sue and her family literally took off. One minute they were there, the next… Poof! No good bye, no nods, no eye contact, no nothing. Gone.

I’m convinced that it wasn’t Mrs Puff we were dining with but the actual Large Marge from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure:

Forgetting Yourself

Queer stuff, Travel, You Stupid Dick

A story from our recent camping trip:

We had packed up the car on the last day of camping and said our goodbyes to the three women across from our site, offering up our remaining wood for them to use. We get into the car and start to drive away.

We almost got to the campground’s front gate when SharkBoy remembers the clothesline still hanging between some trees back at the site. How he did an inventory in his head of the car’s contents while he drove to the exit is a mystery to me. But it came to him in a flash and I had to jump out and hike back to our spot. It was quicker than trying to turn the behemoth of a car around and obeying the 3mph speed limit through the trailer park, crawling past glaring tenants who think you’re doing 4mph.

Back at the site, the women are deep in animated conversation and without comment I head straight to the trees to start untying the rope.

I’m considering using my teeth on one particular high up knot, concentrating all my will to get it to release itself and without thought, I fart.

Sometimes the only time you notice a noise is when it stops. I’m not talking about the fart, no. The lesbians had stopped talking abruptly.

Don’t turn around. Keep working that knot. Wind up the rope. Keep your eyes down. Get back to the car…