Kay Cruise

A cruise for “The Girls”

            When you’re with a group of people you can get into a lot of trouble. History tells us that… and I’m telling you that.

            During my sophomore year at SFA in Nacogdoches, the Lumberjacks won a championship basketball game that qualified us for a national tournament. NIT? RJU? Some tournament. 

The pantie raid as I remember it before the cops arrived
All actual photos were destroyed by the NPD. I'm pretty sure.

            The game was away, so we were all glued to our radios. At the final buzzer a few thousand of us immediately came out of our dorms and started cheering. Then we started running. Didn’t seem like any one was in charge. We eventually ended up outside one of the girls’ dorms. At that point, the post-pep rally turned into a panty raid. I never was sure what one was. I just know that I saw no panties. It was a panty raid sans any panties. 

            Just as things were getting interesting, the campus police arrived and chased us away. Everyone but me ended up outside the College President’s house playing on his lawn. I would’ve been there, but I was standing in the back of the mob right before the cops came, so when everyone turned to run, I became the “supposed” leader of the mob. And, get this, I had no panties!

            All the while I was runnin, I was thinking about how I would explain my arrest to Dad. -- “So, you got kicked out of SFA for orchestrating a Panty Raid? I don’t like the sound of that, son. By the way, what’s a panty raid?” – “Not sure, Dad. But, this one was somewhat of a disappointment.”

            Yeah, I’d end up with my picture tacked to a slate of cork on a post office wall. All because of going along with the crowd. So, what does this have to do with anything? I’ll tell you with what this has to do. Right now Kay is on a cruise to Mexico with – are you ready? – The Girls. Twenty of ‘em. 

            Kay is not only with The Girls, she’s one of The Girls. Who are The Girls? I know most of ‘em, and each seem to be almost normal… as women go. But, all together, they’re a “boxer/brief raid” waiting to happen.

            Getting ready for the cruise took Kay a good while. That’s because The Girls have a theme for each night. One night they’ll all be dressed up like pirates. Another night will be Marti Gras Night. There’s also a “Sparkle Night” when they all wear sparkly stuff. I’m just assuming here.  

            What I consider the scariest theme is “Pajama Night. They actually call it “Cozy Cozumel Night.” (Did I mention that Kay is involved in this thing?) Twenty women will enter the dining room during Cozy Cozumel Night wearing PJs. Am I the only one who sees this as possibly becoming Passengers-Go-Crazy Night? 

            For whatever reason, The Girls enjoy attracting attention while vacationing. Me? I prefer to go unnoticed while on a trip. The less I’m noticed, the more comfortable I can be. I don’t need to think up stuff to say or even pretend to listen. I can, for sake of a better word, RELAX! Break that word down and it means “To lax again.” Who doesn’t want to lax again?

            I don’t relax well in groups. I don’t even get a big kick out of spending time with The Guys. Guys don’t require nearly as much maintenance as Girls, but that’s because we are much less complicated. Guys can be sitting around a campfire smoking cigars. Someone might spit in the fire. This will touch off multiple spits. Finally, someone will say -- “You call that spitting?” -- After that it just gets gross. 

            Yeah, being with a group of guys for any length of time puts me on edge. Too much competing. It can get so aggravated that I sometimes try to change the subject. – “Hey, do these camo pants make my butt look big?” -- Stuff like that is what kept me out of the armed services.

            The only person who can put up with me for any length of time is Kay. Of course, Kay’s not here. Surely you’ve picked up on that by now. 

            Now that I’m alone, I can watch any action, blood and guts movie that’s out there. Don’t even have to share my popcorn. I still haven’t seen “American Sniper” or “Taken 3.” I don’t really care to see any horror flicks, ‘cause I have to sleep by myself. It’s odd how I feel more safe at night being with a person who doesn’t have the strength to lift a bucket of whiffle balls.

            Meals are not nearly as complicated now that Kay’s gone. I can eat breakfast for every meal if I want. Unfortunately, at Day 2, I got sick of eggs. At the moment, I’m not even crazy about movie popcorn. Too much of good things.

             The only thing that I’m the least bit worried about is Pajama Night. I can’t see anything good coming from that. Now Sparkle Night is a gas. But PJ night is a ruckus waiting to happen. I just hope there’s not any campus cops around. If so, somebody is going to find out how Kay’s passport picture looks on a cork slate in the oficina de correos. That’s how they say “post office” in the port of Cozumel.

End

mark@rooftopwriter.com