"The food on this ship sucks."
"Say something positive, huh?"
"I'm positive the food on this ship sucks."
My perfectly-cooked lamb chops nestled affectionately against a small dollop of mashed potatoes. The sauce, a red wine reduction, clung to the meat and lent just a hint of dark cherry. Across the table, my wife looked lovely, radiant.
We were sailing for Jamaica on the Freedom of the Seas, a gorgeous 3400 passenger beauty. We'd suited up for dinner - she in a great red dress and me a tux. I'd had a ceviche appetizer, half a glass of Kendall Jackson Cabernet and I was feeling damn content with myself. Then...they walked in.
Four people, a male/female couple from I don't remember where and two forty-something business guys from Baltimore. They sat at neighboring tables and began complaining about the food.
Mind you, over the course of the week we spent on FOTS we were served steak, lobster, a very serviceable lasagna, a damn decent piece of white fish whose name escapes me (Nemo?) and washed it all down with an array of fine wines. All of it served by two of the most gracious and capable wait staff on the Carib - waiter Rajesh and assistant Vincent, both from India.
The other tables' complaints were pointed, allowing as how the food did not compare with the $50 steaks they could get at home.
But.... guess what they did like? The ship! Great place, awesome staff, came back every chance they get. Fifth time (or something) aboard.
I went back to my lamb chops, amazed. They would have complained about being hung with a new rope, were we able to get it around their substantial necks.
Are there yardarms in the new architecture?