So today, let's talk about our last stop in the Bahamas before heading back to sea. This visit once again features my drunk, back of the scooter riding friend. And once again, we will let her remain nameless to protect her anonymity.
After we returned the slightly wrecked scooter to Duran and company, we still had a couple of hours before we had to reboard the Carnival Fantasy, sooooo we went to Señor Frog's.
This place is a haven for inebriated tourists who don't want to have to venture far from the cruise ship to get their drink on. Everyone I know who has done a Bahamas trip recommends it.
If your recall, my friend and I had already consumed a couple of blenders full of alcohol with a little bit of fruit mixed in - Thanks Chris!
So with our good base coat of alcohol laid in, we proceeded to order the standard size drink at Señor Frog's - the yard.
After a couple of these apiece, we were dancing at our table. In fact, the anonymous friend climbed on top of her wobbly bar stool and proceeded to shake her booty with the best of the 20 year olds.
By the time she climbed down, the DJ was forming a "free shots Conga line", in which participants dance in a line around the bar to about 7 stations where the waiters were standing on top of chairs with squeeze bottles which forcefully projected massive doses of alcohol down the conga line dancers' throats. If you don't get alcohol poisoning, you will have a damn good time.
Of course, my drunk buddy not only joined in the Conga line, but proceeded to cut to the very front of the line in front of the DJ. As a "reward" for her daring line break, at every station when the friend was getting her free shot, the DJ would start the crowd chanting, "One more time! One more time!" Whereas everyone else at each station got one shot each, my 40 year old friend took 5. I will let you do the math on how many shots that came out to be --- on top of her two yards --- on top of Chris' daiquiris.
So, of course, a few minutes later this all led to my friend running around the bar and backing that thing up on each member of the wait staff. This is turn led to the DJ starting a new chant in the bar: "Go Cougar! Go Cougar!"
After 45 minutes of this, I decided it best to escort my friend back to the ship while I could still carry her. Just in time it seems, since as we were leaving, one of the wait staff came up to my friend and, holding her hand so sweetly, asked her which ship and room number she was in and if she was up for a visit later. This guy had a shaved head, but was a little thicker and more soft spoken than the other waiters. It was interesting that his shirt was also a lot baggier than everyone else's, and he had some really soft looking lips. This was also the first time "he" had been close enough for me to see his name tag.