Well, I thought I was smarter than the rest, gifted with stronger moral fiber, greater self-control, and intelligent about my food intake on cruise ships. I continue to recount the story of the first cruise I took to Alaska, a dreadful cruise filled to capacity with thousands of Middle America, where tiny elevators were filled to capacity with humans who could hardly stand balanced due to their massive obesity associated abdominal protrusion, and who ecstatically copulated at their tummies each time they attempted to squeeze by each other when entering and exiting.
Indeed, an unbelievable turnoff was the procession of guests, eyes glazed with anticipation hunger, marching back and forth to the buffet line to fill their plates and fill their tummies, at all times of the day and night and then again and again. Most using their legs, but if all else failed, the electric scooter was an increasingly popular method of transport among those who would rather spare their energy expenditure to process the calories they consumed. I remember one guest sitting at a meal with his family, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, shoveling food into his mouth like someone filling a hole in the ground with fresh dirt. I could see him only from the back; his repetitive arm movement played like a symphony conductor and was impressively coordinated. Sadly, beyond the rapid rhythmic movement of his arm (this was no slow waltz, but a blazing quickstep), all I could see was the runoff of food presumably missing his mouth and sliding down to table top and below to the floor, mixed with some barely masticated seepage inoculated with flowing saliva. I must assert this description is not an exaggeration! The longer he ate, the greater the volume of food that fell short of its mark, as his arm shovel attempted to work at impressive high efficiency and not allow his mouth to sink, even for a moment, below being totally full.
Of course, this was a blessing in disguise. Nauseated by such vile excess and self-indulgent and destructive behavior, it was almost impossible to develop an appetite to eat anything on that cruise ship. Unlike the masses, I lost 5 pound in one week, and I felt great and better than the rest of the world. I had conquered temptation and I was victorious!!!! I bragged and bragged and bragged…..”ha, ha, yea, I went on a cruise and lost 5 pounds….look at me, ha ha ha!”
But this lack of hubris I so freely and disdainfully displayed was as always, a predictor of doom, and a precursor of retribution. My hope is to reverse this negative trajectory as I document the moral and physiological quandary I now find myself in. To be sure, I am attempting to reverse what I see is a total breakdown in will and a wanton departure from the values and successes of my past, as I transform myself from the actor playing the part of the holier than thou controlled automaton to the one playing the part of fat man racing to eat everything in sight.
Part of the problem is that I’m on a Chrystal Cruise, arguably the best cruise line in the world. And the gastronomical temptations served by the cruise personnel are increasing exponentially with time, and are too much to contend with, at least for this mortal. Everyone has their breaking point; I cannot seem to resist the unbelievable and unrelenting volley of sumptuous food flowing as if on a conveyor belt, there for the taking, encouraged by all to partake. This orgy of food is beyond the imagination.
As I sit writing this, I am looking at the ravaged remains of an afternoon “snack” brought to us by our butler…., “to tide us over before dinner” …… a beautifully arranged and generous art work of fresh chilled prawns, crab claws, and lobster tails with a delicious sauce to garnish them with, along with a bowl of fresh mixed nuts. This was at 4pm; dinner is scheduled for 6:15 and the meals continue on and on. And we had just returned moments before from afternoon tea where we were serenaded by the sounds of a string ensemble of lovely young women playing classical music. Their sisters were carrying trays of beautiful pastries and other small sandwiches, scones to wet the palate along with a generous menu of organic teas.
Thank God humans sleep; otherwise, I might as well have an IV providing me continuous food through hyperalimentation. I would stay up all night watching the IV infusing chunks of lobster, chateaubriand, white asparagus, bread pudding, and “taste” the flavor as the food morsels disappeared into my veins. God help me, I’m going crazy!
Burp, hiss, burp…. Sorry, I have to cut the remaining part of this confessional, as it is 6:14 and do not want to be late for dinner! But first, I have to release my belt a little to accommodate to the new ME!
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