“Attention, ladies and gentlemen… The Captain is about to heave to.”
This happens fairly often, doesn’t it? One of the many reasons why I’m not particularly interested in going on a cruise.
That would be a shitty way to spend a vacation.
I’m not as good at geography as I once was. Was this cruise on the Diarrhea River or the Diarrhea Sea?
In a rare exception to the general rule, in this case a vessel running free has the right of way.
First one, then the other.
We’ve been on many, many cruises and are looking forward to a twelve-day jaunt in February. Other than what I quaintly called “turtle fever” (going to the Turtle Farm in Grand Cayman, forgetting to wash my hands right away and partaking of some fish and chips at the restaurant there, leading to a terrible bout of salmonella poisoning for myself) we’ve not encountered anything similar other than a couple people who had been on the Carnival Triumph’s poop cruise (which, seriously, since we usually sail out of Galveston, that’s not unusual since that’s her home port).
I guess it’s like saying planes crash a lot so you’re not particularly interested in taking a flight (although the odds are likely better taking a plane trip than getting sick on a cruise, just by sheer numbers). It happens, but it’s not really all that frequent. When it does happen, though, it truly will happen in spades.
This totally sounds like the setup for a Chuck Palahniuk novel.
I was kinda surprised that David Foster Wallace’s essay about his miserable experience on a cruise wasn’t about a norovirus nightmare.
I myself won’t ever volunteer for a cruise. These gastrointestinal shipboard plagues aren’t nearly rare enough for me.
A surprisingly large minority of people are actually genetically immune to norovirus.
Once our genomes become as commodified as our web-browsing habits, this will be one of the many outstanding marketing opportunities that will open up.
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