Tuesday, July 14, 2009

A Merry Ferry

What this ferry ride needs is...

a. a lot of waves
b. a barf bag
c. an unreserved seat
d. a bottle of Irish Whiskey
e. all of the above

E. It is E. Unfortunately, E. All of E. Not mistaken, E. Sitting on the floor of the Irish Ferry, no seats open to be claimed. No seats open for the 'second class' paying traveler. Why didn't the ticket operator inform said traveler of the seat options? Traveler would have paid for a seat.

The waters from Le Havre, France to Cork, Ireland were rough and bumpy... nothing resembling the word smooth in the least. The traveler had one fleeting thought as she was about to board the twenty-four hour ferry... get something to drink (for sleeping, only, definitely for sleeping).

Rounding the corner, finding a liquor kiosk, the traveler purchased an unknown brand of Irish Whiskey. The fire water should help bring on sleep and comfort. Perhaps.

Traveler had unknowingly downed three-quarters of the foul tasting whiskey in the first two hours, wishing away the waves. Waves that were crashing upon the deck, spraying its salt water, and dousing the traveler with mist. The mist soon became more like a light rainfall. Wishing it was a windfall. HA.

Hovered over in a stall for the remaining twenty hours, finally a seat to claim her own. An unfortunate seat. An uncomfortable seat. A seat gratis! A SEAT.


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