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Key Cards on the High Seas

 

I wrote a few days ago about a major wardrobe fail while on the Mark Steyn cruise.

As I mentioned in that post, the key card is all important. It doesn’t simply get you in your room, it gets you off the ship when in port and allows you to re-embark when returning. Most important, it’s attached to your credit card and therefore currency at the bar.

My good friend, travel mate, and seasoned cruise-goer reiterated to me at least a dozen times on day one to not lose it. She knows me well — there have been hours and hours of our 32-year friendship spent looking for my keys. I was determined to prove I could be responsible and keep track of the darn thing.

I haven’t figured out why yet, but there was quite an Australian contingent on our cruise. And thank God for that — they were all significantly younger than the Yanks and therefore brought down the average age to something not so embarrassing. My travel mate and I befriended one particular woman from Sydney. She was darling, charming, bright, and when it comes to talking, made me sound like a piker (no easy feat).

One night early in the cruise, Tal Bachman brought his guitar to the bar and we all enjoyed hours and hours of his strumming while everyone else tried to remember lyrics. Michelle Bachmann did yeoman’s work crouched beside Tal with music scores on her iPhone.

The party finally broke up at 2:30 am and my travel mate and I insisted on walking our young Australian friend to her room. Upon arrival — no key card. So, we found the service desk. (I couldn’t find it on a bet now, but there was an elevator ride and a hoof down few flights of stairs.) She had another key card made and we walked her back to her room.

Another few flights of stairs, another elevator ride, and my travel mate and I arrived at our room. Trying to show off my newfound responsibility, I whipped out my key card and inserted it. Several times. With no luck.

Looking at the key card, we noticed the name of our young Australian friend.

How do you know you have the best friend in the world? She looked at me and said, “We will never speak of this again.”

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There are 20 comments.

  1. Thatcher

    FUnny and good times

    • #1
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:07 am
    • 2 likes
  2. Member

    When you get your room key take it to the service desk and have unemployed punch a hole in it. Then attach it to a lanyard around your neck. 

    • #2
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:09 am
    • 1 like
  3. Member

    Annefy: “We will never speak of this again.”

    Whoops.

    • #3
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:14 am
    • 2 likes
  4. Thatcher

    Too funny!

    • #4
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:32 am
    • 2 likes
  5. Member
    Annefy Post author

    Hank Rhody, Red Hunter (View Comment):

    Annefy: “We will never speak of this again.”

    Whoops.

    She would never embarrass me. Due to years of experience, I have no problem embarrassing myself.

    • #5
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:39 am
    • 6 likes
  6. Member

    Annefy (View Comment):

    Hank Rhody, Red Hunter (View Comment):

    Annefy: “We will never speak of this again.”

    Whoops.

    She would never embarrass me. Due to years of experience, I have no problem embarrassing myself.

    Stick with what you know I guess.

    • #6
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:40 am
    • 1 like
  7. Member
    Annefy Post author

    Al French, sad sack (View Comment):

    When you get your room key take it to the service desk and have unemployed punch a hole in it. Then attach it to a lanyard around your neck.

    No offense, but I lost 10 lbs and didn’t want to look like I was on a field trip. (Even though I was acting like I was on one.)

    • #7
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:41 am
    • 1 like
  8. Reagan

    Annefy: My travel mate and I befriended one particular one woman from Sydney. She was darling, charming, bright, and when it comes to talking, made me sound like a piker (no easy feat).

    Annie,

    We have had a few chats in the real world, you are not really a chatter box.

    Now that you have been bitten by the cruise bug you need to join one of the Rico contingents as we en masse on one of the NR cruises. True NR cruising is a bit more pricey then going solo on one of those internet specials, but the company makes it worth while, and I would rather fund NR than have the Government just get it upon my death.

    • #8
    • October 9, 2018 at 11:42 am
    • 3 likes
  9. Member

    Did you find your key card?

    • #9
    • October 9, 2018 at 2:43 pm
    • 1 like
  10. Member
    Annefy Post author

    Richard Easton (View Comment):

    Did you find your key card?

    Believe it or not, I’d never lost it. I had somehow picked up the lovely Australian’s keycard in addition to my own.

    • #10
    • October 9, 2018 at 2:48 pm
    • 1 like
  11. Member

    Annefy (View Comment):

    Richard Easton (View Comment):

    Did you find your key card?

    Believe it or not, I’d never lost it. I had somehow picked up the lovely Australian’s keycard in addition to my own.

    Well, it’s better than collecting milkmen.

    • #11
    • October 9, 2018 at 2:52 pm
    • 3 likes
  12. Member

    Arthur Dent’s biscuits story

    “So let me give you the layout. Me sitting at the table, on my left, the newspaper, on my right, the cup of coffee, in the middle of the table, the packet of biscuits.”
    “I see it perfectly.”
    “What you don’t see,” said Arthur, “because I haven’t mentioned him yet, is the guy sitting at the table already. He is sitting there opposite me.”
    “What’s he like?”
    “Perfectly ordinary. Briefcase. Business suit. He didn’t look,” said Arthur, “as if he was about to do anything weird.”
    “Ah. I know the type. What did he do?”
    “He did this. He leaned across the table, picked up the packet of biscuits, tore it open, took one out, and …”
    “What?”
    “Ate it.”
    “What?”
    “He ate it.”
    Fenchurch looked at him in astonishment. “What on earth did you do?”
    “Well, in the circumstances I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do. I was compelled,” said Arthur, “to ignore it.”
    “What? Why?”
    “Well, it’s not the sort of thing you’re trained for, is it? I searched my soul, and discovered that there was nothing anywhere in my upbringing, experience, or even primal instincts to tell me how to react to someone who has quite simply, calmly, sitting right there in front of me, stolen one of my biscuits.”
    “Well, you could …” Fenchurch thought about it.
    “I must say I’m not sure what I would have done either. So what happened?”
    “I stared furiously at the crossword,” said Arthur, “couldn’t do a single clue, took a sip of coffee, it was too hot to drink, so there was nothing for it. I braced myself. I took a biscuit, trying very hard not to notice,”
    he added, “that the packet was already mysteriously open… .”
    “But you’re fighting back, taking a tough line.”
    “After my fashion, yes. I ate the biscuit. I ate it very deliberately and visibly, so that he would have no doubt as to what it was I was doing. When I eat a biscuit,” said Arthur,
    “it stays eaten.”
    “So what did he do?”
    “Took another one. Honestly,” insisted Arthur, “this is exactly what happened. He took another biscuit, he ate it. Clear as daylight. Certain as we are sitting on the ground.”
    Fenchurch stirred uncomfortably.
    “And the problem was,” said Arthur, “that having not said anything the first time, it was somehow even more difficult to broach the subject the second time around. What do you say? ‘Excuse me …I couldn’t help noticing, er…’
    Doesn’t work. No, I ignored it with, if anything, even more vigor than previously.”
    “My man…”
    “Stared at the crossword again, still couldn’t budge a bit of it, so showing some of the spirit that Henry V did on St. Crispin’s Day . .”
    “What?”
    “I went into the breach again. I took,” said Arthur, “an-other biscuit. And for an instant our eyes met.”
    “Like this?”
    “Yes, well, no, not quite like that. But they met. Just for an instant. And we both looked away. But I am here to tell you,” said Arthur,
    “that there was a little electricity in the air. There was a little tension building up over the table. At about this time.”
    “I can imagine.””
    “We went through the whole packet like this. Him, me, him, me…”
    “The whole packet?”
    “Well, it was only eight biscuits, but it seemed like a lifetime of biscuits we were getting through at this point. Gladiators could hardly have had a tougher time.”
    “Gladiators,” said Fenchurch,
    “would have had to do it in the sun. More physically gruelling.”
    “There is that. So. When the empty packet was lying dead between us the man at last got up, having done his worst, and left. I heaved a sigh of relief, of course.
    “As it happened, my train was announced a moment or two later, so I finished my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper …”
    “Yes?”
    “Were my biscuits.”

    • #12
    • October 9, 2018 at 6:18 pm
    • 7 likes
  13. Member

    Two scenes from a life.

    In 1980, when I was a sophomore med student, it was sleeting very hard in Worcester. The wind was brisk and it was really cold. Worcester is a city of hills and the hill I was parked on was taking a beating from the ice storm. In my too-light jacket and no hat I walked up the dark street to my yellow Toyota Corolla. The key would not insert. Went to the passenger’s door. The key would not insert. Goddamitall, the locks are frozen. I went into the hardware store in front of me and bought a can of WD40 which I sprayed all over the locks. No better. So I went inside the store again and bought a $1 cigaret lighter. Heated my key right up and it still would not go in. Furious, I hurled the offending key and did not hear it land, it must have come down in a snow bank.

    As I was pondering my next move in the doorway of the hardware store a well-dressed-for-winter man came, opened the door of the yellow Toyota Corolla and drove off, no doubt wondering why his car smelled of WD40. He had not used his key to open the door. It was not locked.

    My yellow Toyota Corolla was four cars up the street.

    I had to find a pay phone, call my wife, admit to losing my key and await her driving to me. She had the spare key. The door opened right up. My telling of the entire chain of events did not please her.

    We never found the key I had hurled in fury.

    Fast forward to 2008. My adult son was visiting. He had borrowed my van for an errand. I needed to do an errand myself so I drove off and went over to the bank to get some money out of the drive up machine. The ATM took my card but would not accept my PIN. Take back the card, reinsert, still would not take my PIN. Try it a third time. No luck. A fourth time. Still no luck.

    Goddamitall,the card is screwed up. Yes, you guessed it, I hurled the card out the window and drove off. At the first red light I saw my card on the floor of the van. I had been using my son’s card which he had left on the seat when *he* stopped by the bank for money.

    I told him exactly what happened, he searched for the card and ended up reporting it as lost.

    If you are ever near me and I am getting frustrated by something, the first thing to suggest is that I put my arms down. Eventually, I will thank you.

    • #13
    • October 9, 2018 at 8:05 pm
    • 6 likes
  14. Member

    I liked Finchurch. I was sorry Adams killed her off.

    • #14
    • October 10, 2018 at 2:40 pm
    • Like
  15. Listener

    Can’t. Stop. Laughing. 

    You didn’t tell me you had it! Or rather, “discovered it”! And they reassured me at the service desk that it would be cancelled when the new card was issued!! Now it all makes sense… all those spa treatments and bottles of Bollinger I couldn’t account for! PS. It wasn’t Mary who made sure your suitcase was completely packed that last night. Kate x

    • #15
    • October 14, 2018 at 7:05 am
    • 1 like
  16. Listener

    Annefy (View Comment):

    Richard Easton (View Comment):

    Did you find your key card?

    Believe it or not, I’d never lost it. I had somehow picked up the lovely Australian’s keycard in addition to my own.

    Flattery will get you everywhere! 

    • #16
    • October 14, 2018 at 7:08 am
    • 2 likes
  17. Member
    Annefy Post author

    CardlessAndClueless (View Comment):

    Annefy (View Comment):

    Richard Easton (View Comment):

    Did you find your key card?

    Believe it or not, I’d never lost it. I had somehow picked up the lovely Australian’s keycard in addition to my own.

    Flattery will get you everywhere!

    Fancy meeting you here! I thought I would have to wait til the next cruise 

    Mary and I continued to be fascinated by all you terrific Australians – I have a few Australian friends who are intelligent and well informed, so your level of discourse didn’t shock me. But you lot put almost all us Yanks to shame on how well informed and thoughtful you are about US politics 

    Hope to see some posts by you – as you can see when it comes to writing geopolitics takes a back seat to lost key cards and wardrobe mis haps. One must have priorities, after all …

    • #17
    • October 14, 2018 at 7:41 am
    • 2 likes
  18. Listener

    Well, the US is where everything (that really matters) happens, politically speaking. America Alone, right? That’s why Antipodeans are prepared to go all that way to join you on a great cruise! And the jet lag makes staying up until 2:30am look effortless (until Day 3-4).

    Will see you in the comments either here, or at the Club! 

    https://www.steynonline.com

    https://www.steynonline.com/club/

    • #18
    • October 14, 2018 at 8:07 am
    • 2 likes
  19. Listener

    Al French, sad sack (View Comment):

    When you get your room key take it to the service desk and have unemployed punch a hole in it. Then attach it to a lanyard around your neck.

    Too sensible!! 

    • #19
    • October 14, 2018 at 8:09 am
    • 1 like
  20. Member

    @cardlessandclueless

    Welcome!

    Any friend of @annefy is a friend of mine.

    My husband and I enjoy the Aussie TV shows we can get via Acorn TV.

    • #20
    • October 14, 2018 at 10:33 am
    • 3 likes