And as a follow-up, how are these issues addressed in ports of call?These questions are starting to be asked more often on certain cruise forums.
Every moment, you feel convinced that female shoppers, not to mention security guards, are peering at you in suspicion and disgust. I had been told to get a particular type and colour but I sure as hell couldn’t find them and that made me even more self-conscious.So you look at the lingerie while at the same time trying to look as if you’re not looking. So much so that I found myself stroking my cheek with my left hand, in the hope that fellow shoppers would see my wedding ring and realise I was in fact buying the red pair of frilly knickers for my wife…… In the end, I gave up and today, my last time in Seattle before going home, my assistant Dee will go for me.When I asked, she jumped at the chance as she loves to shop.Shame she didn’t show as much enthusiasm when I asked to apply my hemorrhoid gel. Kelly Lawrence asks: John: With the rising popularity of personal drones and remote controlled helicopters and such, what is Carnival’s policy regarding bringing these on board the ship, flying them over and around the ship?Now, whatever my wife wants she will get because I love her ……..except for one thing and that one thing is underwear.It may embarrass Heidi to find me saying so here, but nowhere near as much as it embarrasses me to buy the stuff.
But because I was stupid and because I do as I am told, should I ever want to see her wearing that underwear, this past Tuesday, I spent some 15 massively awkward minutes in a bloody shopping mall in Seattle rummaging around in Victoria’s knickers.
For men, shopping alone for women’s underwear is enough to have beads of sweat running down your back and down to who knows where.
Yesterday, after singing “Let it Sodding Go” to Kye for her bedtime song, I asked my wife, Heidi, in a terrible moment of weakness I asked her if she wanted anything brought back from Seattle because I would be getting off the ship to get some essentials – some hemorrhoid gel and cigars.
As soon as I said those new words, I knew I was in the s**t.
And it was because she wanted me to shop at a place that we don’t have in England even though the advertising states it’s a British store…..
yep……I’m talking about Victoria’s Secret, which is about as British as July 4th and grits.