Read part one here first: https://www.sfwordsmith.com/the-cruise-ship-part-1/
I am instantly snapped from my melancholy. I am CPR certified. Now is my chance to be a hero! I rush to the sound of the damsel in distress, carelessly ignoring the wisdom of the nearby sign hanging on the wall which warns me not to run next to the pool.
She is screaming from the level below the sun deck. I rush down the stairs to the best of my ability, taking four at a time because this is a life or death emergency and now is a time to risk it all. I make it down and hear her once more:
“PLEASE HELP HIM!!”
I round the corner and see her, olive skin, dark purple bikini, deep brunette locks, my eyes begin to drift down… as soon as the staff member throws a soaking wet human being directly at her feet. He begins doing CPR. The man coughs, he turns over and vomits saltwater and the remains of a half digested all you can drink mimosa brunch.
I am too late to be a hero.
I mean.. yayyyy, the guy is saved!
The crowd claps. She slaps him playfully on his chest and tells him never to scare her like that again. I sigh. I am way too hungover for this shit now that the adrenaline is wearing off.
Matter of fact, now that I think about it, I shouldn’t have run that fast on an empty stomach. I feel nauseous… I…
“BLARGGGHHH”
Another wave of vomit hits the deck. I immediately look up and see everyone staring at me. She is staring at me, he is staring at me, and the staff member turned paramedic approaches me as another staff member holding a mop gives me the death glare.
Why did I decide to take a cruise?
