Friday, December 26, 2008

Merry Christmas from the Bahamas, whose sand I will never feel between my toes.

Love notes from my co-workers

Christmas in the Bahamas sounds great, except when you're working on the modern-day equivalent of the Amistad slave schooner playing laundress on the day you're supposed to be sipping mulled cider while enveloped in the comfort of the balsam-scented tree by the fireplace surrounded by family opening presents. The only part of the Bahamas I've experienced is the longing gaze I give the gorgeous aquamarine water -- from the passerelle above as take out the garbage each night. It wouldn't be so bad if we got some time off once in a while, but that never happens.

Here is the view from my boat. We're docked two slips over from this sailboat. I so wish I could go over to Atlantis, the crazy pink resort that you see ads for all the time in the New York Times, and swoop down the waterslide and experience the amazing glass tunnel under the shark tank, and maybe play a little Blackjack, but alas, that is impossible to do when you only get a two-hour break each day. Seriously. Yesterday I worked from 9 a.m. to 2:30 a.m. Fun.

If you're considering working on a yacht because you think you'll get to experience exotic locales, think again. As bad as the economy is, I gave my notice yesterday. I can't wait to hand in my polyester airline pilot uniform and kiss my epaulets good-bye. I want my life back, even if it is a cash-poor one at that.

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