When the Big Tit foundered on a Caribbean iceberg, I was pleasuring two young ladies from Epping in my cabin. I looked out of the porthole, and decided that joining the ‘mile-low’ club was not my scene.
I extracted myself. Gently.
‘Where you going, baby?’
Seeing they were intensely occupied with a teddy-bear, I used the appropriate finger signal to gesture upstairs.
‘Ooh,’ said blonde one.
‘Ahhh,’ said blonde two.
There were three hundred and twenty seven passengers on board and four lifeboats that held about thirty each. Luckily, I still had my dress on, and I leapt into the ‘women and children first’ boat.
Two days later – the boat was empty, apart from one lusty lady – needs must, and all that - and I was top cuckoo. It drifted towards an island that had a McDonalds sign on the beach.
‘What’s that?’ said Lucy.
I reappraised my selection. Maybe I should have chosen the Jehovah witness. Or even the farm girl from County Kerry. I shook my head. ‘It’s an oasis where there is plentiful burgers and coke. Aren’t you hungry?’
She looked at me – meaning, leapt upon me - and after another hour, I succumbed to a life of blissful carnality and non-conversation.
From a man’s POV, an ideal partner. And a workaholic.
She pulled the boat ashore, tied it to a conveniently sited wooden post, and I stepped out to embrace my new home.
We followed the Big Mac sign, and soon came to an ATM. Island Bank. Beside it sat a pirate – a dastardly looking fellow. It was as if he was expecting us. Ignored my questions, just pointed to the machine.
‘Okay, Lucy,’ I said, ‘you have a bank card?’
She frowned. ‘What’s that?’
A few expletives later, and a search of her two backpacks and a utility handbag resulted in zilch. I shrugged. Blackbeard slid his cutlass into a side pocket, drew out a card, and handed it over.
Lucy slid it into the hole while I feigned indifference. A few heavy breaths later, the ATM spat out a receipt. I looked at the typed message. Free French fries today.
‘Oh, goody,’ said Blackbeard who had sidled up. I stared at him. He let out a throaty roar. ‘I bet you thought I was going to say, “shiver my timbers”, or something equally inane.’ He nudged my arm. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘I like him,’ said Lucy.
‘And I like you,’ said Blackbeard. He winked a wink I considered to be obscene. ‘Come to my ship and I’ll show you my plank.’
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘She’s…’ A cutlass blade against my throat shut me up.
‘It’s you I like,’ he said. ‘Nice dress, darling.’