Musical Men

After dinner and karaoke, I tiptoed in the room and woke Katie up.

"There's a singles event at midnight at the dance club. We're all going."

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Who's single?"

Katie had met someone two weeks ago at one of Harvey's parties and they haven't left each other's side until this trip. This is the reason I think Katie's been sleeping and our relationship has been much easier. Still, I was glad the room was darkened and she couldn't see the look I shot her.

"Me," I said flatly. "I'm single. And so is Swayze."

But she had a point. Of the 17 people on the cruise, Swayze and I were the only single people. Katie's new boyfriend isn't with us, which is why we roomed together. Government Mule paid but backed out at the last minute, so Jenna roomed with Swayze.

"I'm single tonight, bitches!" shouted Harvey from my doorway. She took off her wedding ring and handed it to her husband. He laughed. They were coming with me and Swayze to the singles event as well as Jenna and Harvey's Husband's married older brother. Katie ultimately decided to stay behind.

The singles event was hosted by a duo of break dancers from some famous break-dancing team that the boys had heard of. I dunno, we were on a cruise ship in our own little world. Just go with it. The hosts asked for male volunteers and then made them get down on the ground on all fours. Then they asked for female volunteers. No one stepped forward.

"If you volunteer, you'll get a free drink," they encouraged.

Harvey appeared up front so quickly, there was no time for a cloud of dust to form behind her.

Instead of musical chairs, it was musical men. The women had to walk in a circle around the men who were on the ground on all fours. When the music stopped, the women had to find a back to ride. The woman who couldn't find a man to ride was out. She then selected a man from the floor to go buy her a drink, thus removing the man from the game. Repeat.

Our girl Harvey made it to the final round. The hosts instructed the remaining man, who happened to be very large, to lay on his back. The two women were instructed to walk around the man. When the music stopped, the women with the most amount of her body covering the man was the winner.

Harvey looked at us in the crowd and laughed. She was married. And she was wearing a very tight black leather skirt that didn't allow for modest game play. The music stopped. Harvery sat down on the man's belt, pinched her knees together and laid her back down the man's legs. The other woman had sat on the man's chest facing Harvey. Then she slipped forward so her denim skirt was over the man's face with her legs on the dance floor. She literally sat on his face. I could no longer see the man's head, but he lifted his arms and cheered. So did the crowd. Even though Harvey technically had most of her body on the man, I suspect it wasn't the right parts of her body. She came in second and was awarded a medal.

The game ended and the music came back on the dance floor. Harvey's husband quickly handed back Harvery her wedding rings. She was drunk and elated with her medal and showed everyone while we were dancing. She slipped it over her husband's head and danced with the medal around both of their necks, bringing them close together.

Several men seeing Harvey in the tight leather skirt at the singles event flocked to her, not knowing she played the game under false pretenses. This has bothered me in the past: Harvey taking off her wedding rings and getting male attention. But that night I didn't care. I was in international waters heading to Mexico and I was with my friends and I was dancing. And Harvey who is hot on a bad day had gone on a no-carb diet and had the best body of anyone I know in real life. I didn't blame the men for approaching her. She was smoking. Harvey and I are two different leagues.

So I danced with Harvey as the men tried to dance with her. I didn't even look at anyone else. Then she pointed behind me and spun me around. "That guy behind you wants you," she shouted over the music.

I turned around, not believing her. Clearly this was someone just getting in line for her. But sure enough there was a guy behind me trying to dance with me. Of the crowd, he was one of the better looking people: taller than me in heels, brown facial hair and crows feet in the corners of his grinning face. I faced him and he grabbed ahold of my waist and pulled me in. I stumbled. He leveled me. I am a good dancer, but I am a good dancer only when I dance alone and have my space. I am a terrible booty dancer. I lose my balance because I'm in heels and my weight is precariously distributed onto somebody else's hip. And I was on a boat for good measure.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't worry. I got you," he laughed.

I lost my balance again. He held me again.

After a couple of songs, I had gone from feeling sexy while dancing alone to feeling like a retarded monkey while I continually stumbled over this guy's boner. At one point he leaned in for the kiss and I thought, no harm, so I accepted. But he approached me too abruptly. I could feel his tongue pry apart my lips before I even felt his lips. I was turned off and I quickly turned a cheek to him. I begged off and went to the bar for a beer. The guy had followed me and bought it for me. Instead of taking a sip, I twisted my hair and pulled it up and rested the aluminum bottle against the nape of my neck. There were a lot of people out and I was hot and sweaty. He brushed my hand away and held his beer against my shoulder blades. Despite the awful kiss, he was tender.

He was from Tallahassee and he had the same surname that our group was registered under. Harvey's husband instantly called him an honorary member of our group. Swayze nudged Jenna and said they were going to have to move Katie out of my room for the night. Tallahassee's friend came over and introduced himself to me and offered to buy me another beer. I declined. They were kind and polite South Georgia boys, but they also had ADD as they quickly ran off to dance with other people as I cooled down. I realized I was babysitting their bucket of beer while they danced, so I moved three stools down where my friends were. The boys got confused as to my whereabouts and disappeared on the dance floor. I ducked out to avoid an awkward goodbye.

As we walked back to our rooms, I drunkenly described the bad kiss to Harvey and Swayze. And in case they didn't understand the kiss, I used hand gestures. They fell on each other laughing, dubbing us Tongue and Groove, the name of a popular dance club here in the city. And then I took my first trip falling down the stairs. I grabbed the railing for dear life and caught myself from going all the way down, laughing in relief. Then as I stood up and tried to descend the next step, I tripped again and wiped out. Swayze and Harvey's husband laughed so hard that they couldn't be bothered to come help pick me up. I just laid at the bottom of the staircase, legs splayed and laughing.

And that was the first night.

***

I woke up... sometime. The cabin had no clock, my phone was turned off to avoid any roaming fees and my interior room had no window. It was pitch black. I woke up cold, wet and hungry and I had no capacity as to the time. I whimpered. I had never felt more vulnerable and scared upon waking. This is what it must feel like to go crazy, I thought. (Several people asked why I was wet. I don't know. I was still sweaty from dancing when I crashed into bed; that's the only guess I have.)

I got up and picked up my beer from last night and poured it down the drain. It was flat. So at least I knew I slept long enough for the beer to go bad.

I opened the door and peered down the hallway. There were the Indonesians with the cart bringing towels to the rooms. The room-service breakfast order I had drunkenly hung on the door before passing out had been picked up. I started walking down the hallway until I saw a door that was cracked open, just like I had done in the dorms at the university. I knocked.

It was Harvey's Husband's mother and boyfriend.

"Do you have the time?" I squeaked.

She looked at her watch. "It's 9 a.m. We're heading to breakfast if you'd like to come with."

I was hungry. I looked down. I was in my pajamas: a 5k t-shirt, no bra and short flannel shorts. I had run a comb through my hair, but I had not washed off last night's makeup. I was not dressed for going to a sit-down restaurant.

It was like she read my thoughts. "We're leaving right now," she said.

"Um, okay." I padded down the hallway, arms crossed in front of me to hide the fact I wasn't wearing a bra. As we got to the restaurant, the waiter picked my napkin off the table, shook it and laid it over my pajamas. I was shamed.

But I felt better after an order of Belgian waffles. And I got to tell Harvey's mother-in-law about Harvey's performance in musical men.